


Infection

by darkandstormyslash, Magpies_Treasury



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Blackmail, Child Abuse, Dubious Consent, M/M, RP, Sexual Content, teen!lock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2018-03-12 20:37:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 67,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3354494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkandstormyslash/pseuds/darkandstormyslash, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magpies_Treasury/pseuds/Magpies_Treasury
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim has sex with Sebastian's father and films it for leverage so they can blackmail him into stopping his abuse of his son. It doesn't go quite they way they'd hoped.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Blackmail

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is an RP written by myself and Stormy
> 
> I wrote for Jim and Sherlock  
> Stormy wrote for Sebastian, Moran, and Mycroft

That dealer that hangs around the grammar school gates just told me to tell you to fucking pay up. What have you been up to? SM

Pissing off drug dealers apparently. JM

He's just mad because I stole his merchandise and he's hoping I'll eventually pay for it. Dumbass. JM

Please tell me that's a joke. Have you really been stealing from dealers? -SM

He tried to give me a slap but I sorted the bugger out. -SM

It's not~! I made a new friend and he was tired of that kid selling in front of a school, apparently the met is starting to crack down because of stupid people getting too bold. So I told him I'd get rid him! JM

It's just taking a little longer than expected. I thought his boss would have taken care of him by now. The dealer must not have told him about the stolen merch. JM

that's my Sebastian. JM

You need to be careful. My dad's gotten into trouble with dealers and he's a rich twat doing the odd line of charlie. You're a scrawny little gutter brat, they'll break you. -SM

You're no fun :P JM

I'll be careful, promise. JM

Besides, I've always got you to get me out of trouble. Don't I? JM

You've got me, yeah, but so far we've just been dealing with pissy little school kids who steal your lunch money. Taking on some drug gang is a bit of a different manner. -SM

I'm not taking anyone /on/ Sebastian. I'm just pulling some strings from behind the scenes. I fucked up with this one, he wasn't supposed to know it was me. Obviously. JM

Oh he knew it was you. And he knew I was mates with you. How much money do you need? I can always get it off dad and we can pay the bastard. –SM 

I have the money, I don't want you stealing from your old man. The guy I stole the drugs /for/ paid me for them. I just didn't want to pay that stupid fucker selling drugs on a school corner. JM

I won't try anything like this again for a while. /Promise./ JM

Oh you silly little shit. You know that technically means you've been dealing? -SM

What! No. I'm more of a... mule? Technically I just trafficked them from one place to another. JM

Stealing drugs, selling drugs, trafficking drugs, you are going to end up in the deep shit, and I'm going to get my kneecaps broken trying to get you out. -SM

Now Sebastian, would I ever let you get into a situation we couldn't handle? JM

I told you it won't happen again. I was a bit too ambitious. JM

It's been a bit tight sometimes. Carl Powers' fucking brothers come to mind... -SM

Okay, that /hurt/ JM

Yeah well it hurt me as well. -SM

I apologized for that didn't I? JM

Oh that was an apology was it? I'm not complaining. It was fucking funny seeing my dad’s face when I fell out the taxi, just reminding you that you aren't infallible. -SM

Thanks /so/ much. JM

What would I do without you? JM

Probably get my knees broken. JM

Heh. Don't pretend your ego doesn't need deflating occasionally. -SM

Prancing around thinking you're so clever shipping stolen drugs across the country while I'm smacking dealers round the head when they try to pull your debts. -SM

Don't even joke about that. The dealer didn't know your name at least, that's one thing to be thankful for. -SM

Just knew you as "that Irish brat who hangs around with Augustus Moran's son." -SM

Thank heaven for small mercies. JM

All I need is this getting back to my ma JM

Your poor ma, she'll be so disappointed in you. Heh. -SM

She'll beat me silly and drag me to mass. JM

She said she wants you over for supper later this week, can you come? JM

Do I have to? -SM

I know she thinks I'm a poor little motherless rich kid but your place is genuinely a shit hole. -SM

My Ma's cooking is the best, I am offended at your reluctance. Though God knows, you'd eat anything. JM

She can't help herself, it's a mum thing. And thanks asshole. JM

/Someone/ is insisting I pay that stupid drug dealer. JM

It's not the food, it's more the atmosphere. And if I watch her slap the back of your head one more time I might just belt her one. -SM

God it's like I have two mums. JM

Well pay the nice dealer Jimmy boy or this one will spank you with a table-tennis bat. -SM

Alright alright! JM

I can't decide who I'm more afraid of between the two of you. JM

I've never hit you yet Jim, and I wouldn't fucking dare. -SM

Too right! My Ma's the only one who gets away with that. And you know that woman could scare the devil himself. JM

How are things with your Da? JM

Same old, same old. At least he's stopped with the fucking cane now. And he's getting afraid to leave marks since I told him I'd run to the tabloids. It's fucking hilarious. -SM

He's a bastard. People like that don't deserve to live on this planet. JM

I was getting really fucking sick of you coming to school with those welts. Glad that's stopped at least. JM  
I'm not sure how long that level of blackmail will make him behave himself... I've been thinking I should try and get something else on him. Something that'll give you a stronger hold, you know? JM

He's got a point I mean I do ask for it sometimes. -SM

That's shit and you know it. JM

The tabloids are the easiest way to destroy him, his precious political career won't survive another scandal, not after my mother left. -SM

Ah come on - I wind him up on purpose. Not always, but sometimes. I try and see how livid I can get him without going too far and sometimes I get it wrong. -SM

Alright well I'll think about it. I'm just saying that while the idea is sound, the leverage you have is weak. JM

You wind me up all the time, and I don't treat you like a punching bag. JM

Well I'm certainly not about to let the daily mail photograph my arse for evidence. -SM

Yeah, but that's because you're a skinny little teenager, not a diplomat with amateur boxing trophies. -SM

Nah, we'd have to do something else. (Although I'm sure the pervs at the daily mail would love~ that.) What other types of scandals can ruin careers? JM

I'm small but I'm vicious. JM

We could buy him a rent boy? -SM

Oh yeah, half the editors would be wanking off over it. I've got a decent arse when it's not covered in lines. -SM

That thought has potential. But you know people don't care much about sex work scandals, although a male prostitute idea does add a bit of flavor. JM

I think they'd be wanking /because/ of the lines. JM

People don't? I'm sure careers have been lost over it. Embezzlement would do it. Or drugs? -SM

Ha! Yeah. Pervy bastards. -SM

Well, it's tricky yeah? Because we don't actually want to wreck his career. I'm not sure you could survive with us gutter brats. Embezzling and drugs are difficult to get records/proof of. Compromising photographs would probably be our best bet. JM

How would you feel if I seduced your dad? JM

I'll be off to Sandhurst next year. Once I'm established there it doesn't matter what happens to him, besides I can - YOU FUCKING WHAT -SM

I haven't done it! I was just asking! JM

It's a sure way of getting photographs. And besides, I'm underage. The press would have a field day. JM

Well stop even thinking about it. No fucking way. -SM

The big scary politician took advantage of a scrawny immigrant, his son's classmate. They'd lynch him. JM

You are such a prude. JM

There is no way I'm having you rolling around naked with my dad. I'd rather go back to the cane than that. -SM

Ew, do you think he'd use the cane on me? JM

It's a pretty strong possibility. He's a bastard and your arse is pretty tempting. -SM

That's why this plan is foolproof. JM

To someone who does that sort of thing i mean, like I can see it might be. -SM

Right, of course. JM

it is not foolproof, it is fucking stupid. -SM

What does that mean? hmm? -SM

If you're looking for a slap Jim Moriarty you're starting to fucking well ask for one. -SM

It's not /stupid/ none of my plans are /stupid./ You have to admit it has merit, if not appeal. Don't ever say I never did nothing for you. JM

A slap? On my ass? Oh dear. JM

It does not have merit. It has nothing. I can't believe you've been thinking about trying to seduce my dad. Is that what you're into? Fucking built bastards who'll snap a cane against your skinny little arse? -SM

More like a punch in the face. -SM

Why, you sure you're not interested? You aren't exactly excluded from that description. JM

I'm bloody nothing like him. Although caning the shit out of you is starting to look bloody attractive right now. That'd stop you thinking about any damn stupid ideas about letting my dad get his hands on you. -SM

I'm not wanking off to the idea, I'm just saying it would give me peace of mind to know I'm not going to get called to the emergency room again or go to class and hope you don't show up with worse than a black eye you dumbass. JM

If anything that'd probably only make me more attractive to your Da. You keep putting ideas into my head. JM

He only sent me to the emergency room once, and that was because I fell down the stairs mid-way through. He almost had a coronary, he doesn't want me in hospital at all, he practically had to pay the Doctor to stop them calling social. And I am not putting pretty little lines all over your tight hot arse just so my dad can perv over them. -SM

You're no fun :-( JM

At least /that/ would be enjoyable. JM

The first time was an accident, doesn't mean the second time it couldn't happen again. JM

Oh yeah? Maybe I should start slapping you about if you enjoy the idea of it that much... -SM

And come on ... you love it when I can't sit down. You practically creamed yourself that time he laid in with the belt. -SM

Nah, I just know you're sore at me and it's best to let you vent. You're scary when you hold a grudge. JM

I did not fucking get off on your dad beating the hell out of you, asshole. Don't joke like that. Even if you think it's stupid I'm trying to help. JM

Calm the hell down Jim. I know you're trying to help. But seriously, I've just got to hold out till I get to Sandhurst. You're more mad at him than I am. -SM

That's because you got smacked too many times in the head and can't see straight. JM

It's because I know I can take it. 'S like a fight, except a fight I know I'm going to lose. You psych yourself up right. -SM

And I couldn't take it? One time just to get him off your back for good? You really think I'm that weak JM

I don't think you're weak Jim. I know you could take it. I just don't think I could... -SM

You are such a fucking softie. JM

You know you'd do it for me. JM

What, let your dad fuck me? Piss off. -SM

If I had no fucking choice. Maybe I'd bend over for some bastard to save your life. But not just to save you a few beatings. Not unless you ordered me too. -SM

You're an idiot. I won't do anything unless you agree first. JM

Or you end up in the hospital again. Then all bets are off. I'll just murder him and save the scandal. JM

Now murdering him I'm OK with. If you can get away with it. It's the idea of him getting to see you naked, getting to feel you all up, leave marks on your pale skin, beat your arse raw and then get to fuck it. Bastard. -SM

Someone is jealous~ JM

Not that I blame you of course. JM

Jealous of him? Ha. As if. He's my fucking dad Jim. That would be wrong on every level. -SM

No it would be wrong on every level if you were jealous of /me./ JM

Then I would /really/ be concerned for your mental health. More than I already am anyway. JM

Eww. Now that it fucking messed up. Besides, big fucking bastards aren't my type. -SM

Fine! We can shelve the seduction scandal. It was just an idea! JM

Oh and what is your type? You know I've never been able to figure that out. JM

I'm not convinced you could play a whore anyway. You just look like a skinny little school-kid. -SM

You know what I like. Birds with big tits. -SM

Adler was hot. Completely raving mad, but hot. -SM

Well that's the point doofus! No one cares if it's a whore he's paying. But that poor "skinny little school kid?" That could have been /anyone's son./ Much more controversy. JM

I'm not working with her again /ever./ JM

Besides, she's gay. She wouldn't be into you. JM

You worked with her? When was that? -SM

Ahh that would explain why she shot me down. Now she /did/ know how to wield a cane. –SM

A few months ago. I thought she had a lot of promise but... She couldn't keep her feelings separate from business. Kind of like you actually. JM

What! What feelings do I have that get in the way of your precious 'buisiness'? It was only one session with Adler, and we parted on pretty damn good terms. -SM

No, no, not your... canoodling session. Gawd. She told me /way too much/ about that. I mean in general. I'm an ends justify the means kind of guy, I'll do whatever I need to to get the job done. Because where's the fun if there's no /risk?/ JM

Heh. She wanted to have a go at whipping a bloke. I told her I wouldn't scream. She was very, very, good. But wouldn't let me fuck her, worst luck. -SM

Did you scream? JM

Course not! She got a hell of a lot of noises out of me though. It was ... fuck ... it made me look at a cane differently. I thought she'd just whale away. –SM

What she does takes /skill./ -JM

So you didn't let any of your little secrets slip to her while she had you tied up then? JM

She might have broken me a little bit .... god it was good though. -SM

You mean now she knows about your secret ambition to be a modern dancer? JM

Only teasing. JM

Ha. Couldn't dance to save my life. Was just all intense and erotic and yet somehow still sort of platonic. Which makes sense. I came all over the damn place when I was allowed though. heh. -SM

She told you when to come? Jesus no wonder you are such a good boy for me. You've already been trained. JM

Ah fuck you. It was just one time. It ... seemed to be going that way. State I was in she could have ordered me to do anything. -SM

/Well,/ I'll certainly have to give her your regards next time I see her. One does always like to know their work is appreciated. JM

It did end with her telling me politely to bog off. But I hope she remembers me fondly. -SM

Well if you were trying to come onto me after coming all over yourself I would tell you to bugger off too. JM

I'm sure you made a lovely picture though. JM

If I ever loose enough dignity to try to come on to you, please shoot me. -SM

You're an asshole. JM

I think she took one actually. On that damn pink phone of hers. I wasn't really paying attention at that point. -SM

Good. I'll ask her to send it to me. I could use a good laugh. JM

Don't you dare. I'm not having you ogling me after been beaten by a girl. -SM

Don't flatter yourself. Better yet, if I ever lose enough dignity to come on to you, please shoot me. JM

I'll dig the rifle out tonight. Is it the sort of thing you're likely to do? You know, when you're not fantasising about my fucking dad? -SM

Fuck you. JM

But not really. Maybe in your dreams. JM

You should learn to be appreciative and not look a gift horse in the mouth. JM

What the hell makes you think I have dreams about you? And I don't think it counts as 'unappreciative' not to want to listen to my dad and my best mate bonking in the spare room. -SM

Irene might have told me some things. JM

I wouldn't do it when you were in the house, moron. You're too emotionally invested, like I said. JM

Oh shit, that /bitch/. -SM

Look I said all sorts of things, alright? She had a fucking cane and she seemed to like the idea. -SM

HA! I was /kidding/ JM

That's rich. JM

oh FUCK you. You know, I might just let my dad have a go at you. -SM

Oh goodie, I can hardly wait. JM

Have you ever /been/ caned? -SM

My family's /Catholic/ JM

(Yes.) JM

Oh yeah, I forgot your mum. She seemed more the wooden-spoon-and-belt type. You know. Household implements. Well fair enough then. -SM

Pretty much anything is fair game in our house. Once I got a hair brush. JM

She hit me with the spoon and I told her "that doesn't even hurt." So... you can imagine how it escalated. JM

You silly sod. Mind you, I can't pretend I haven't done the same. -SM

You ever had a go with Adler? Bet she wouldn't break you though. -SM

I was six. When was this for you, last week? JM

No, I think we would both try and out top each other and the gravitational pull of our combined dominance might cause the earth to be sucked into a black hole. JM

You and Adler would be fun to watch. Pity she didn't work out. And no it wasn't last week. It was a good two months ago now, I've been keeping my head down and being a good boy. -SM

All do to Adler's influence I'm sure. -JM

Maybe I should write her a thank you note. -JM

No, this was because you started staying out late and being shifty. I thought I better keep myself in decent condition for when you inevitably needed bailing out. -SM

Pain and me is complicated. I don't like being hurt unless I'm in control. I guess I'm weird. JM

Which was a damn good idea given I needed to face up to a dealer this morning. -SM

I think most people don't like being hurt. -SM

Stay away from him for now, I'll pay him tomorrow. But I don't need you two butting heads before I've wrapped things up. JM

Except you apparently. JM

You have to like hurting to be a good fighter. Otherwise you'll be afraid of every fight. -SM

Well let me know if you need some more cash. Dad won't notice, he's rich enough. -SM

You have to know when hurting is /worth it/ to be a good fighter. Sometimes it's better to just take a pounding than to fight back and get beat even worse. You know, if you're scrawny like me and aren't really good at fighting back in the first place. JM

Thanks Seb, but you know I rather like seeing you without bruises. Even if they do bring out your eyes. (I'll be fine.) JM

Why do you think I've been fucking working out all my life? So I never have to need to take a pounding. -SM

Well right now I'm completely bruise-free you'll be pleased to know. -SM

That's worked out /so well/ for you. :-) JM

I am. Work harder to stay that way. Don't make me order you. JM

Oh shut the fuck up, other than my dad, and that one time with Adler, nobody's ever dared to fuck with me. And it's not like you haven't benefitted from that. -SM

You give orders now? Well yes /boss/. -SM

Carl Power's brothers. JM

Also you said you would bend over for me if I ordered it. I figured asking you to take care of your health shouldn't be too much to ask in comparison. ;) JM

Only when they were all at once! I got them back separately though, didn't I? Eventually. -SM

You know they have a saying about people like you and me. It's like the oak tree and the reed. Sometimes it's better to bend in a storm. JM

I didn't say I would bend over for you I said that only /if/ you were in extreme pain and only /if/ you ordered it I'd maybe do the thing you were happy to throw yourself into with   
my dad. -SM

Let me guess, the oak tree gets fucking annoyed and give the reed a slap. -SM

And I am taking care of my health. I stopped smoking didn't I? -SM

Semantics, semantics. And "happy" would be stretching things. Come on, your mum didn't even want to be with him- that should tell you something. Not saying anything against your mum of course. JM

If the oak tree smacked the reed he would just whip right back up. Let him try it. JM

You did good Seb. And don't you feel so much better now that you can breathe without feeling like you are gonna hack up a lung? JM

My mum didn't have any trouble with being with him. Problem was she didn't have any trouble being with anyone else either. And that Californian bloke was rich. -SM

And yes of course I feel bloody better. Wanker. -SM

Rich-/er/ you mean. JM

Heh. Yeah. She preferred California as well. All warm and sunny and full of pretty shops and prettier people. -SM

So wait, you're telling me you think your da would be a good fuck? Really? JM

Fucking shut up about fucking my dad! -SM

You are such a prude. JM

You know what? Mention it one more time and I'll tell your mum that her dear darling Jimmy is about to whore himself out to an English politician. She'll get that hairbrush out again. -SM

Jesus fuck don't you dare! JM

I wouldn't be whorin anyway, not planning on getting any of his money. JM

If you tell her, I swear to god I'll tell her about him putting you in the hospital. You think she's smothering now? JM

Alright! I don't think I can face another round of chicken soup and sympathy. -SM

You would be damn well whoring and you know it. -SM

Nope. I'd been working a job, /obviously/. And you'd be my client! -JM

But you couldn't pay me because I suppose that would be whorin. JM

I'll obtain leverage to save your ass pro bono. How's that? JM

Do you do this for other 'clients' then? -SM

Don't know. Maybe I would. I don't like what he does to you. I don't like any of the fuckers who do that shit. JM

I work jobs for in exchange for trade and services. What you do for me, I can't pay you for, I aint got nothing you need. This is something /I/ could do. To maybe pay you back a little. JM

Pay me back. Is that what you think? You think I need 'payment' for helping you, and that the best way to do that is to get my dad to fuck you? -SM

And what 'jobs'. Jim please don't tell me you whore yourself out... -SM

I said it didn't I? Obviously it's what I think. I'm just trying to help and I'm sick and tired of the way he treats you. You really think he's going to let up on you just because you've gone to college. JM

My consulting work you moron. You know, the ones you help me with? Always jumping to the worst conclusions. JM

Oh right, those jobs. -SM

I know I'm small time now, but I'm improving! JM

And besides, you'd still be my friend even if I did sell my ass. Actually you'd probably be my pimp. JM

Yeah, you used to get threatened by schoolyard bullies. Now you get threatened by drug dealers. –SM

I would make a pretty good pimp for you. -SM

It's a sign that I'm moving up in the world. JM

Oh please, you're against me having a romp with your da despite his influence and money. You're against it even though it could save your skin and provide security for you. You wouldn't make a good pimp, like I said-- too emotionally invested. JM

Have you done it though ... sex with a bloke. -SM

Sure I have. You got a problem with that? JM

Well yeah a bit. -SM

Yeah well it's none of your fucking business who I have sex with. JM

God not a problem with you though. I mean you've always been pretty damn gay. Just ... some other guy feeling you up. Got a problem with him. -SM

Oh. Well that's still none of your business Mr. Moran. JM

Wait what do you mean by "other" guy? JM

I mean whichever twat ended up rolling with you. -SM

No twats that's the point. JM

Fuck. -SM

How many? -SM

How many what? JM

How many bastards have you slept with? -SM

Oh /god/ you /are/ my mum. JM

Don't tell her about that, though, yeah? She doesn't know. I'd get worse than the hair brush if she ever found out. JM

Course I won't. I like your arse the shape it is. -SM

So you /do/ like my arse. JM

Well I'd prefer it only mildly bruised rather than destroyed completely. What's worse than the hairbrush? -SM

She'd probably beat me bloody with a fire poker if she ever found out about-- you know, me. JM

I won't tell her. Won't tell anyone. Apart from obviously all the guys that clearly already know. Huh. -SM

Down boy. JM

"Huh?" That's mildly ominous. JM

You running around having sex with everyone. How many? -SM

It's hardly /everyone./ God, you do think I'm a whore. JM

I don't think you're a whore. I'm just bloody annoyed that I've been the one saving your hide from the Powers' and you've been happily letting other blokes in at your arse the whole time. -SM

Well there /is/ a difference between someone I want to have a fuck with and someone who thinks they have a right to jump me in the bloody showers. JM

That's not what I mean you silly little fucker. -SM

Look, I don't know what Adler told you but I'm not a bloody poof. -SM

Just, fucks sake I dunno you've never shown even half an interest in me. -SM

You can't make me out like an asshole for passing over you while in the same breath insisting you're straight. Why should I throw myself at someone who is /clearly/ not interested. JM

I get around so I'm obliged to offer you a turn too? JM

You'd happily throw yourself at my father and you don't know whether he's straight... -SM

For him it's a power thing. He wouldn't care about age or race or gender, he gets off on bullying people who are weaker than he is. And I'm not "happily throwing myself at him" I was just trying to fucking help you. JM

Huh. I am not weaker than he is. Yeah, yeah, I know. It's fine. You're fine. -SM

I notice you don't argue that he gets off on it though. JM

You really think he's not had anyone else over since mum buggered off to California? -SM

Ugh, no honestly. I am sorry that you're so aware of his sex life. JM

It's not like I hear it, the house is big enough. But I overhear bits, see the sort of people he brings home. I almost wish he would hire a sodding whore, it's depressing that they all seem happy to get knocked around for free. -SM

Hey, some people are into that kind of thing. JM

You are actually one of them :-) JM

Yeah, but not with my /dad/. -SM

No, not with your dad. JM  
You know I'm always happy to help out with you little... problem. I could probably give Irene a run for her money. JM

I'll give you fair warning though... I do favor the hairbrush. JM

And I wouldn't just let some big bastard do me over and get hot for him. It would have to be something like Adler did, not someone I'd be wanting to punch back. -SM

What? -SM

What /problem/... -SM

Huh, good to know. JM

Well... I got the impression that your... preferences in the way you like to be treated in the bedroom might be limiting your chances. After all it's a rare bird that can top someone like you. I just thought you might be frustrated. JM

I'm just teasing you mate, you are way too easy to rile up. JM

Jesus fuck how am I ever meant to tell when you're serious? -SM

Fucking hell. –SM

Oops, did I get you all hot and bothered? JM

Ha. You bloody wish. Just keep your bloody inquiring mind out of my bedroom activities alright? -SM

Oh I don't need to have an inquiring mind. I have photographic evidence. JM

I didn't know your face could do that. JM

Of what exactly... oh god she didn't did she? -SM

Ha. No. You're pissing around again. -SM

I'll never tell. JM

After all it is /so/ difficult to tell when I'm joking. JM

Do you think that big goon is just going to break my legs and take the money tomorrow? JM

I don't think the dealer will, but if he's told his boss they might decide to teach you a little lesson about cheeky buggers who steal drugs. -SM

He won't have told his boss-- he'd be much more likely to be taught a lesson. But I suppose there won't be any reason for him not to tell him once he's got the money from me. JM

Sigh. The things I do for you. JM

Oh this is for me is it? Am I supposed to be grateful that you've got yourself into this mess? -SM

I'll come with you if you like - I've slapped him once before, he won't try it again. -SM

/You/ got yourself into a mess that didn't exist and now I'm bailing you out. Everything was going to plan until that stupid lump took a swing at you. JM

Oh it's /my/ fault now? Nice to know. What should I have done then? -SM

Hm, I guess you should have just told him that you didn't know any dumb skinny Irish blokes and let him be. But that's okay, you couldn't be expected to know what to do-- you didn't even know what was going on. JM

... yeeah that probably would have been the best idea. -SM

At least I didn't tell him your name. -SM

Yes, /thank you/ Sebastian for not telling the menacing drug dealer my name. JM

I've decided that it's best to just do nothing. If I pay him now then I'll be going against the man I did business with. I think it would be wiser to just avoid the goon on the street corner for now, don't you? JM

That means leave him alone Seb. JM

Awwww dammit. Okay then. I won't touch him. /And/ I'll stay out of trouble with my dad. /And/ keep up with the not smoking. Happy? -SM

Extremely. I really /must/ question Irene on her methods, they seem to have done wonders for you. JM

I'm sure your intelligent enquiring mind will be able to work it out from the clues you've been given. She's a lady, doesn't kiss and tell. -SM

No she's definitely more of a kiss and show type. JM

Allegedly I mean. JM

I genuinely can't work out how much you know. I'm not about to shoot my trap off if you don't know all the sneaky little things she got me to confess. -SM

Oh Sebastian, I'm hurt. You'd share all your secrets with some broad who you didn't even fuck but you won't tell your closest friend? JM

They were quite exceptional circumstances. Who knows, if you get me bent over a sofa, blindfolded in silken chains with my arse on fire you might get some secrets sliding out. -SM

I'm sure that's not the only thing that would be sliding out. JM

Whoopsie! Anyway! I'll just have to keep that in mind next time I see you. I want to know what you've gotten me for Christmas and I'm simply dying of suspense. JM

You are fucking weird sometimes. -SM

No his names Wilde. -JM

Shit. JM

Wilde, hmm? -SM

And if you continue trying to dodge the dealers and hope they just go away you'll be getting a new kidney for Christmas. -SM

You would give me one of your kidneys? I think that's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me. JM

No, I’d cut out one of someone else’s kidneys and give it to you. -SM

I need mine. -SM

Maybe Wilde's kidney seeing as you've already sampled his fucking DNA. -SM

Oh how thoughtful, used kidneys. JM

You know he's actually quite tame in the bedroom. I know, it was a disappointment for me too. I mean with a name like 'Wilde" I didn't think I could go wrong. JM

I don't want to know what you and Fucking Bastard Wilde got up to in the bedroom. -SM

What did he do to you, did he hurt you? -SM

What? No! JM

I just said he was tame, didn't I? JM

Yeah well. -SM

Just checking. -SM

What was his first name? -SM

And technically I'm still seeing him so it's what we "get up to" in the bedroom. But that won't last long if he doesn't impress me soon. He's growing very tedious. JM

I didn't say. JM

You're still seeing him. -SM

Right. -SM

For now, like I said. He's underperforming. JM

Fine. -SM

Feel free to tell him that when you stalk him down later. JM

Oh don't worry I fucking will do. -SM

I'll tell him he's an under-performing wanker and then kick him in the balls. -SM

Oh don't damage those! JM

You are the wanker, threatening helpless twinks. JM

Oh? He's a little twink is he? That your type then? -SM

I'll damage any part of him that touched you. -SM

Oh... /well/ that's certainly ambitious. JM

I don't have a type~ JM

Are you trying to wind me up again? Because it's working. -SM

Did you fuck him then? Or did he fuck you? -SM

Well /that's/ enough sharing for today. JM

And it's not my fault that you are a prude. You wind yourself up. JM

I'm not a damn prude! I just don't like the idea of you fucking around with other people, alright? -SM

I mean I can understand your father-- but Wilde is perfectly nice and he's not that old. JM

If the idea of other people having sex offends you, that means you're a prude. ;) JM

I didn't know you still had a damn boyfriend. -SM

Not all other people you silly twat, just you. -SM

You think I don't get hot thinking of Adler and her girls sliding around over each other? -SM

He's not my boyfriend JM

What did I ever do to deserve this special privilege? -__- JM

Ew, no I hadn't really considered it before. Especially since you didn't know she was gay until I told you today. JM

I knew she fancied women, didn't know it was exclusive. -SM

Okay, as long as you aren't lumping all women into fantasies for wanking off to. JM

Just the ones that strip you naked, tie you up, and work you over with a riding crop. JM

Yeah, Exactly. -SM

Wait. -SM

I didn't mention the riding crop... -SM

Fucking - she has shown you those pictures. -SM

Ask me no questions and I shall tell you no lies. -JM

I sure as hell didn't tell you about the riding crop. -SM

Heh - bet your precious Wilde never let you play with one of those. -SM

No I've never involved Wilde with my riding crop. JM

As I've said, he's a bit dull but he's sweet. JM

But please don't go and get a big head thinking that you have some kind of sexual experience I don't. JM

Oh, you actually have a riding crop? How come? I mean Adlers a rich brat with a riding school membership, how did you get one. -SM

I didn't say I'd used one on somebody. JM

You said you'd never involved Wilde with your riding crop. Implied you have one. -SM

Oh I misspoke. I meant I'd never been involved with Wilde and a riding crop, I don't own one. JM

Oh yeah, one of your other conquests, hmm? -SM

And I totally have had plenty of sexual experience you haven't. -SM

I doubt it~ JM

Oh come on, the things Adler did to me. -SM

Well, as I said, I've never used a crop on someone. So no. JM

And what makes you think I've never done any of those things? JM

Or had those things done to me. JM

Not by a woman, yeah? -SM

Who the fuck used a crop on you. -SM

I've been with women before, not more than two though. JM

Oh please like I'm ever going to tell you JM

You threatened to neuter my vanilla fuck buddy. JM

How come you've been getting so much? Are all you peasants at it like rabbits? -SM

I’ll do more than just neuter the bastard. -SM

Yes Sebastian. The impoverished have nothing better to do with their limited time on this earth then to fuck around. We are unbelievably bored all the time because we have no money to entertain ourselves with and procreate until we have more children than we can feed. JM

I don't know why I meant to be sarcastic, that's actually rather accurate. JM

You don't know him so I'm not worried for poor Wilde. JM

I really wish Adler hadn't turned me down. Miss the bitch. -SM

Oh I'm sure you're absolutely heart broken. JM

Well. It's not exactly my heart that's the most upset. -SM

You are a bastard. JM

Well you have plenty of fantasies of gay women being together for your personal enjoyment. That'll keep you warm on cold nights. JM

I think you just need to get laid. JM

It would do wonders for your personality. JM

Well yeah, I'd appreciate it. I thought I'd really have my chance with Adler, but fucking no. -SM

The good ones are always gay. I mean, hey, look at me. JM

Can I have your twink, Wilde? If you don't need him anymore. -SM

He's not your type. JM

And I won't have you using my poor dears like that, you don't deserve them. JM

Well true, he's a bloke but I'm sure I'll find somewhere to stick it. -SM

And /that's/ why a bird won't fuck you. JM

To be fair I can't think of many guys that would appreciate that attitude either. JM

Don't worry Seb, I'm sure you'll lose your virginity one day. JM

You shut the fuck up I'm not a virgin. -SM

I told you I had a one night stand. And then there was Adler. -SM

Oh please, I bet she didn't even touch you once. JM

Oh I'm sorry, I must have conveniently forgotten about the other one. JM

Actually now you mention it she didn't. Not with her hands anyway. Heh. -SM

Yeah well there was the other one. I told you before. -SM

Irene has a no skin on skin contact policy. Those gloves are hot though. JM

Remind me again? JM

They are aren't they. Real leather as well. How many pictures have you seen exactly? -SM

I haven't seen any, I'm just familiar with her practices. JM

We did work together after all. JM

Thank fucking Christ for that. Oh? By 'work together' what happened, you two doing over some poor sod in a basement? -SM

Now that I'd pay to watch... -SM

Why watch? It could just as well be you. JM

Stop fucking teasing. -SM

You and Adler between you could rip me to pieces. -SM

I'm not teasing, just adding ideas to your wank material. JM

Yours seemed a bit stale. JM

You have no idea what I wank over. -SM

Although you could probably guess. -SM

Yeah there wasn't any one night stand. But you know that. -SM

I /knew/ you're a virgin. JM

Hey there's no shame. JM

Why would I be fucking ashamed. -SM

I mean, I can't hardly /remember/ but you know. We were all there at one point. JM

Besides what happened with Adler was better that any late night fumble with some tittering girl. -SM

Oh shut the hell up, you're a slut anyway. -SM

That I can agree with you on. She's really going to go places. JM

First I'm a whore, now I'm a slut.. make up your mind JM

Sluts do it for free. -SM

You'd think I'd have learned to charge people by now since I'm apparently doing it all the time. How did I end up so fucking poor? JM

And if you say it's because I'm a bad whore I'll kick your teeth in. JM

Oh? Am I overstepping the mark? Should I go get the hairbrush? -SM

You /wish/ I'd use the hairbrush on you. JM

Well you know, if you ever need tips or advice you know who to call. I'm sure quite a bit of it translates between pleasing men and pleasing women. JM

I doubt you'd leave much of a mark. I mean compared to my father you're just a skinny little thing. -SM

Is that a challenge Mr. Moran? Because I could top the hell out of you. JM

oh really? I'm not convinced. I don't think you'd leave much of an impression at all. -SM

Oh yeah? You know Phillips older brother? The rugby playing? JM

I topped that. JM

Fucking what! What the hell has that fucker got I haven't. -SM

Next practice he is going fucking down I swear. -SM

He's on your team idiot. JM

Besides, I might want to see him again JM

He hasn't got anything you haven't got moron Moran. It's what I haven't got that's the problem, isn't it? JM

Why? What don't you have? You are not seeing him again, I'll jump on his head. -SM

I haven't got a twat you twit. JM

Yeah? And Adler might not have had one for all I got to see of it. -SM

:-) JM

poor you JM

You sound truly sympathetic, you really do. Ha. Looking forward to taking on Phillips now. -SM

No no Philips is the younger brother, who /also/ does Rugby. His brother's just graduated from uni a year or so ago. JM

Sorry I know this is confusing. I almost got them mixed up too once JM

But I was very very drunk. JM

Ah what the hell, I'll smack up both of them. -SM

Two for the price of one, yeah? -SM

That's exactly what I thought. JM

Kidding! JM

Jesus Jim what the hell are you trying to do to me today? -SM

Raise your blood pressure enough to cause cardiac failure and when you die I'll receive your family's money, it's all written out in your will. JM

Like my dad would leave money to you. -SM

He barely even knows who you are. -SM

Seriously, you just make it too easy-- leave yourself wide open. How can I be expected to resist? You know my self-control is shit. JM

Not yet he doesn't~ JM

I'm getting that, yeah. -SM

KIDDING JM

I'm sort of tempted to walk into his study right now and tell him I've been fucking you for the last two years. How do you think he'd react to that one? Think there'll be any skin /left/ on my arse? -SM

No, I think he'd take a page out of my ma's book and just use the fire poker. JM

Does your da even know who I am? JM

He genuinely cares too much about his reputation. "Rich diplomat beats son to death with fire poker" would destroy him. He knows I hang around with some sort of unsavoury character from the terraced houses. -SM

Ooooo, I like the air of mystery JM

He knows where I live and he still let you be seen with me? JM

I could go in there right now ... fuck he'd go nuts. -SM

Specially as I've been behaving so well for the last few weeks. -SM

We should just hope he never finds out I'm an immigrant. JM

Don't you dare. You have one job JM

Oh he knows you're Irish. He's joked about it before now. -SM

Why do you care anyway? You can get Philips the rugby player and brother to sort you out. -SM

I was only half kidding about what I'll do if you are sent to the hospital again, you'd better not land yourself in there on purpose. JM

You're an idiot. JM

Oh? What were you going to do to me if I ended up in hospital? -SM

Although seeing as Adler won't cane me now, and you're slutting around with half the school I think my dads the only chance I have. -SM

Not funny asshole. JM

I told you if he put you in the hospital again I'm going to get some actual leverage over him. You seemed to disapprove of my methods. So I'm reminding you that you shouldn't try and get yourself there on purpose if you are really squeamish about this. JM

Huh. Maybe you might as well just fuck him. -SM

Why because now you think I'm a slut? JM

No Course not. -SM

I'll get a good beating, you get to fuck my dad, Alder gets to sleep with women. Everyone's happy. -SM

Don't be stupid. JM

You're being childish. JM

Jim the state I'm in right now I need a fight with /someone/. -SM

Where does your Wilde live? -SM

Fine, come over here you can smack me around like you've been itching to all day. JM

What the problem, I'm the one that's been winding you up. JM

Because I can't hit you. -SM

That wouldn't make me feel better, just make me feel worse. -SM

Sure you can, it's easy. I'm a reed remember. JM

Although I won't pretend it wouldn't feel fucking good for the first few slaps. -SM

No. -SM

I'd rather you beat the hell out of someone then get the hell beaten out of you. JM

I can hit you back if you want an actual fight. If that'll make you feel better. JM

I'll win though. You really think I want to look at you in a crumpled heap on the floor and know it was me that did it? -SM

Yeah well. I don't care which one. -SM

I won't crumple. JM

Irish are tough like weeds. :) JM

Heh. My dad has said that exact same thing. -SM

Oh, well I'm glad that your dad and I agree on /something./ JM

There's more than a few things you agree on. But you are completely opposite in every other damn way. -SM

Right, I’m going in to tell him. Think he'll get the cane out? -SM

I will take that as a compliment. JM

Don't you fucking dare. JM

Sebastian I can get real serious real quick here. JM

You can't keep one fucking promise? JM

What do you want me to do eh? Whatever you want, just fucking stop this shit. You are too good to be that idiot’s punching bag. JM

Fine. -SM

Why should I keep one fucking promise? Why? Because you know I will? -SM

You haven't been serious all day. You've been teasing and pissing around, telling me you know what I told Adler, making me think you might actually - and then you just laugh and piss off and now, now that I want to just fucking hurt and break and get broken, NOW suddenly the game stops. -SM

God you're good. -SM

Because I care about you, you fucking idiot! And I don't want to just watch you self-destruct without /trying./ What's so wrong about giving a shit, huh? JM

Because you've been making me self-destruct all day. And when I finally bloody give in you yank me out. -SM

What have I been doing? I thought we were just having a laugh! JM

Gods I can't-- you have to /tell/ me if I'm doing something that bothers you JM

Oh yeah because going "please oh please Jim stop pretending you're going to cane my ass then ride it like Adler did with a fucking dildo" is going to wonders for my street cred. –SM 

You: You are impossible. JM

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

OK fine. Sleep with him. Whatever. Do what you need to do. -SM

Are you serious? JM

What brought this on? JM

Had an argument with him. -SM

About Sandhurst. -SM

Shit. JM

What happened? JM

He wants me to go to uni first. I told him where to stick that one. It escalated. -SM

Fuck Seb. Where are you now? JM

In my room. He's pissed off to the club. -SM

Okay. JM

Are you alright? JM

I'll live. -SM

Just fucking angry. -SM

The only point of me sticking around with the fucker was so he could get me to Sandhurst. -SM

Yeah, I know. Would uni be so bad? You wouldn't have to go locally? JM

local or not the point is I'd be pissing around in dull lectures for three years. -SM

Sandhurst isn't worth it? JM

I guess it is. Fuck I just thought I was about to go there, not that I'd have to wait three years. -SM

It's shite I know. JM

It's a fucking joke. -SM

If you go you'll have to let me borrow all of your text books. :-) JM

What should I study? -SM

To be honest it was the same old arguement, it just started with Sandhurst. -SM

You might learn something you know. You're a force to be reckoned with now but muscle with an education? I'm just saying it could benefit you. JM

Oh god, you're as bad as him. -SM

Do you want a go with the belt as well? -SM

Don't know? Depends on what you want to do after? You could do a communications or cultural communications. JM

Fuck you. JM

Always darling. JM

What did you argue over after? JM

Cultural commumications? Are you fucking kidding me? -SM

Same old - basically I'm not the son he wanted and he's not the father I'd like. -SM

Then he tugged his belt off and it all got a bit mad -SM

I caught him a good shiner in the face though, he'll have trouble explaining that at the club. -SM

If you want a career in the military it could be helpful. Besides it might help you learn how to talk to people and not just repress all of your broodiness inside. JM

Well we can't choose our fathers. JM

What kind of shape are you in? JM

I do not fucking repress anything. I'm fine. Nothings bleeding. Just bloody sore. -SM

Sure you don't. JM

You're an idiot. I told you not to fuck with him. That was stupid. JM

...How hard did you hit him? JM

If this is about me and Adler and that fucking stupid text conversation we had yesterday... -SM

Smacked him a good one. It'll bruise. Heh. -SM

Good boy. JM

He started it! I was being good. Then he just all out of nowhere asked about my uni applications. -SM

And we know how much you /love/ surprises. JM

Well, I think you should do it. One of us should get out of this shit hole. I can help you with your applications. JM

I didn't even swear back for the first few sentences. He still got fucking angry. What happened to your scholarship applications? -SM

I'm not sure they are going to pan out. JM

My AS-levels don't look good. It's okay. JM

Oh come on, you should have aced those, you're smart as fuck

I aced the maths scores and did pretty well on the science. The rest of it isn't as easy. JM

Ah. Yeah. I just bullshit the rest. Came out with a decent handful of GCSEs but then with all the extra tutoring you'd think I would have. -SM

Tried to study up on the other subjects but that was around the time my ma got sick. It's okay, I'll figure something out. JM

You should go to uni - you'd do well. Although might get a bit bored. I'll be bored as fuck. -SM

Maybe just join some posh twat drinking club and break a few heads. -SM

We'll see. JM

You won't be bored, you'll be /studying./ JM

Besides just think of all the women you'll meet. JM

Like fuck I will. I'll be getting drunk and fighting rugger buggers. -SM

Oh yeah. A load of rich posh uni birds. Fun. -SM

Posh girls are usually looking to go slumming while they can. You have just the look for it to. JM

I'm hardly the slumming option -SM

I'm the rich son of a famous diplomat. -SM  
Of course you will. It's a good thing that head of your is so thick-- else you'd get brain damage. JM

I just hang around with impoverished brats. -SM

Yeah but you're all /dangerous/ and moody. But you have all of the connections and credentials-- that makes their parents happy. JM

I know it does. They all start twittering around me at embassy dos. I should buy a leather jacket and fingerless gloves. -SM

Ouch. I see that all along I've just been your PR stunt. It's so nice to be appreciated, if only as a charity case. JM

Don't forget the sunglasses. JM

It's not like I take you along as a mascot. Actually last time all that happened was the Iranian ambassador felt me up behind a pot plant and I almost caused a diplomatic incident by trying to slap him. -SM

Why did I never hear about this? JM

Ew, how old was he?? JM

Thirties? He's fairly new. All slicked back hair and over-white smile. Bastard. Should I have told you? -SM

You should bring me along as your mascot. And introduce me to the ambassador. JM

Hell no. Given what you told me yesterday you'd probably jump him and fuck him all over the salad. -SM

One- fuck you. Two- salad dressing just sounds gross. JM

You know, I hadn't considered it but you probably lucked out a little. Some people might have actually offered you to the new ambassador to gain favor. JM

As shitty as your dad is at least he's not pimping you out to his colleagues. JM

You - fuck that's evil. -SM

It happens. Poor upper classes. Turns out everybody has their price. It's just some people are worth more. JM

I've disappointed my dad enough without getting buggered for his career. -SM

Don't you dare put the idea into his head though. -SM

What the fuck, of course I won't. Like I'd ever give him more ways to be shitty to you. JM

Yeah well the way my arse feels right now, the thought of being forced to take a faceless diplomat up the arse doesn't do much for me. Not on his orders. -SM

I had thought you were into that sort of thing. Is it just because he's a bloke? JM

Speaking of, were you serious about what you said? JM

No it's because my fucking dad would be pimping me out. -SM

Was I serious about what? -SM

What you said. About blackmailing your dad? JM

I don't want you to say something and then decide you want to change your mind later and leave me in the cold. Jm

So don't mind that he's a bloke? Did you think he's attractive? JM

The Iranian bastard? Nah. He was too smooth and oily. Although he did grope nice and hard. Yes, I meant that. Do what you want. -SM

Okay. JM

You got like a handheld video camera or something? I don't have anything like that. JM

Yeah. I've got a camcorder in the attic. Got it one birthday. -SM

K. Try and find it for me. I'll hide it in his office or bedroom or something and after I leave you can go back and get it. JM

But I should hold on the video. He'll just tear apart your room looking for it. JM

Yeah. Do you want me to take it from him or shall I bugger off as well? -SM

You should stay somewhere else for a few days after I tell him. It'll give him some time to cool off. He'll still be pissed as hell. But there won't be shit he can actually do about it. JM

You can stay with me if you need to JM

Yeah, I'd prefer to. He'll be properly mad and after today I'm not sure I want to take it. Just tell me where to put the camcorder and I'll hide it for you then try not to think about it. -SM

You're a good friend. JM

Fuck you. -SM

Anytime you're ready princess ;-) JM

Do you think office or bedroom would be better? I'm thinking office but I don't know him as well as you do. JM

Can't see him fucking you in the office. Bedroom is more likely. -SM

Let's go with bedroom then. I'd rather not do this more than once so I'd like to go with whichever room is more likely to yield successful results. JM

Yeah I'd rather not do it more than once either. Stop fucking pissing around, I had enough of that yesterday. -SM

Oh you've had enough now? JM

I had enough soon after you started. Just do what you have to do with my dad because I'm not taking a hiding like that again. -SM

Go ahead and set everything up. You can come over when you're done. Come in through my window though, I don't want ma to see you. JM

You won't. I promise. JM

You think I want your ma seeing my like this? I'll be in through the window. As long as I don't have to sit down anywhere. -SM

It'll be late by the time you get here- just go to sleep. JM

Are you gonna do it tonight? -SM

I'll leave the first aid kit out for you. JM

Just come back safe yeah? Don't let him hurt you. -SM

If my dad gets to fuck you first I'll kill someone. -SM

No reason not to, he's out right now and you aren't going back until this is done. Bring a duffle with a change or two of clothes-- I don't think you'd fit in my clothes... JM

I thought we established he's not the first haha JM

I meant - don't know what I meant. -SM

Not thinking straight. -SM

Don't worry princess- that's my job. JM

Did you place the camera yet? You should probably hurry. JM

Yeah, yeah it's in the bastard attic I'm just getting it out. -SM

Then I'll scoot, you'll get him when he's home from the club, probably drunk, still angry and a bit horny. -SM

Just what you need. -SM

Sounds peachy. JM

Best to place it on a bookshelf or something like that. A desk. Anywhere it can be hidden in clutter. JM

Right, got the damn thing. Just finding a place to hide it. How are you going to start it recording? -SM

I'm going to get there before your da, don't worry. I'm leaving my house now, I left the window unlocked for you. JM

Thanks, what do you want left unlocked here? -SM

Camera is in place. It's on the cream bookshelf if you need to know where to angle yourself. -SM

Door is fine. Thanks, I'll make sure it's set. JM

Right. -SM

Okay, all sorted, I'm limping over to yours now. Good luck and never fucking tell me about it. -SM

Although I'm sure there will be plenty of lurid photos all over the tabloids. -SM

Hey, you'll be my safety yeah? Like if I'm not back to my house by say... noon tomorrow? You know not to go yourself, call the cops or something. JM

Not if all goes to plan. I don't have any intention of ruining his career, he's no use if he's disgraced. JM

I've lost track of what you are trying to do. Just get on with it. And of course I'll call the police. He's unlikely to kill you though. -SM

I know, it's just in case I was too hurt to get home or unconscious. I don't expect you'll have to do anything, but it's better to be safe. JM

There's a chance he might get carried away with smacking you around and then shove you in the cellar when you pass out. -SM

Well at least you'll tell them where to look for my body. JM

Don't worry, yeah? You won't have to deal with him again. JM

I'll try not to worry. Right, I'm now out the house. Go for it. -SM

See you at home. JM

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

“Hello sir.” Jim watched Augustus Moran startle and whirl around to look at him. No doubt he’d thought Sebastian would be up in his room licking his wounds and he hadn’t expected to encounter anyone downstairs. Jim’s mind whirled as he catalogued the flushed face and aggressive posture. Drunk, still angry, and horny. Sebastian had been right—he didn’t know if that was a relief or not. It did certainly make his job easier. 

He’d snuck in the unlocked front door and done a cursory study of the house’s layout before the other man had returned. He’d been to the house before but he’d never seen more than a couple of rooms and honestly had had no idea where Moran’s bedroom was. Now Jim knew of the easy exits and where he could find several serviceable weapons. Moran kept a locked gun cabinet that Jim had no intention of going anywhere near—in fact he would avoid them entirely—but he did know where the knives were kept in the kitchen and where various found weapons were. Just in case this thing ended up going arse over tea kettle. Jim wouldn’t risk this—Moran was a very dangerous man and too much was at stake. He felt his blood sing in anticipation. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing here?” Moran took a menacing step forward and made like he would grab at Jim. Too soon. The smaller boy dodged back a step and held his empty hands up to pacify the other man. 

“I’m sorry sir! I was just looking for Sebastian, he wasn’t answering his phone. He’s not here though.”

Moran’s face reddened at the reminder of his son and the knowledge that he was out so late. “You need to leave.” This time Jim allowed his arm to be grabbed. Show time. He began to struggle and caused a ruckus, when he /accidentally/ jabbed Moran in the gut with his elbow in the struggle. Moran swore and wrapped his hand around Jim’s other arm. He was now twisted around so his back was facing Moran and the other man had his arms wrapped around him from behind as he struggled.

/Now./ Jim leaned back into the other man’s chest but continued to move about as though he was trying to get away. He pressed his ass against the man behind him and was startled to feel that Moran was already erect. /Fuck, Sebastian really wasn’t kidding./ Jim continued to squirm and felt Moran’s erection grow as he wiggled and pressed his ass against the other man. 

Moran finally just picked Jim up and threw him against the couch. He sprawled and tried to get his feet under him so that he could run. This wasn’t good. He needed to be in the bedroom. Jim made a show of breathing heavily and widened his eyes in fear, looking every bit the scared teenager. In fact, he’d bet that he looked quite a bit younger with his small stature and fearful expression. 

Moran leapt for him but Jim got up and dodged under his arm. He bolted for the staircase and headed for the other man’s bedroom. Jim tried to make it look like he had simply fled and accidentally ended up in the older man’s bedroom when searching for an exit or a place to hide. He only got to the upstairs hallway before Moran caught up to him and grabbed him roughly by the shoulders. Jim pretended to struggle until the other man dragged him to his bedroom, pushing him through the open doorway. 

Jim fell heavily onto the hardwood floor in Moran’s bedroom. He knew he wasn’t in line with the camera yet so he made a show of backing away from Moran who was stalking towards him. Distantly Jim had to admit that he made a very menacing figure from his place on the ground. “Stop! What are you doing!?” Jim’s voice was high and panicked, young. Moran kicked him in the side and Jim didn’t even need to feign the pained noise he made as he went down and his body went limp. /Fuck/ that hurt. They were within the camera’s range though, so it wasn’t for nothing. 

Augustus reached down and picked up Jim by the front of his tee shirt, dragging him to his feet. “Let me go! I don’t like this, let me /go!/” Moran grabbed Jim roughly by the back of his neck and kissed him violently, forcing his mouth open. Jim let a confused whimper through and he felt Moran’s dick harden against his thigh at the noise. Sick fuck. It wasn’t going to be enough to just roll over and let the other man fuck him. Jim had to push the man to violence, the perceived brutality would be what really damned Moran and would make his blackmail all the more valuable. It was a good thing he already knew all of Moran’s buttons to push from Sebastian. Jim allowed the kiss to continue for a few more moments before he bit down on the other man’s lip, hard. He tasted blood in his mouth and then his vision exploded into color. 

He found himself dazed on the floor again, confused about how he’d gotten there. He thought Moran might have back handed him or punched him. His mouth hurt. There was blood but he wasn’t sure whose it was. Suddenly he was flipped over onto his back as Moran pinned both of his small wrists under his meaty hand and held his chin in place with the other. Moran’s face was inches from his, his eyes seemed to glow and blood dripped from his lip. “Bite me again and you’ll be shitting teeth, you hear me?”   
Jim nodded but didn’t trust himself to speak. He couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t make some stupid ass remark and get another punch to the face. Moran released his chin but continued to pin his wrists to the floor, Jim lay still as his shirt was rucked up to his chin. He felt Moran’s mouth on his body and he shut down, letting his mind drift off. /Just lie back and think of England…/ Jim bit his lip to keep a giggle from escaping. Numbers and mathematics danced across his closed eyes until a sharp pain on his chest dragged him into awareness. 

Moran bit him, the fucker. Jim didn’t worry, it didn’t look deep enough to scar and that was all he really cared about. He wasn’t about to let this bastard leave any permanent damage or marks. Moran was laid on top of him and with their size differences Jim wasn’t completely sure he could get away if things got really dangerous and he needed to.   
Moran adjusted his body and went to work on Jim’s trousers. The boy took a steadying breath to center himself before he started crying. As Jim forced tears to leak past his eyes he made halfhearted efforts to dislodge Moran and free his hands. He got a bruising punch to his gut for his defiance. As Jim gasped for breath Moran flipped him onto his stomach again and got his trousers off. Jim blinked and tried to focus on what was going on. The tears continued as he quietly pleaded to be left alone, he didn’t want this. Please please please stop. He might as well have saved his breath for all the affect his pleading had on Moran—but then again his tears were for the camera. Jim was pretty disturbed to remember that for all Moran knew, this was absolutely real. He wondered if Augustus had done this to someone before and thought it likely. 

Jim flinched away from cold hands on his body then tried to relax. It wouldn’t help anything to fight during this part; he didn’t want to get torn if he could help it. Besides, he’d covered the resisting and clear lack of consent earlier. It was convincing enough at this point if even Moran believed his performance. Jim buried his face in his arms and continued to shake with sobs as Moran stretched him. 

At least he was getting prepped at all. He’d been anticipating the worst. 

Jim let the pain he was feeling show in his body and sound through his sobs and pleas. A constant litany of expletives ran through his mind and he bit down on his bloody lip to keep from voicing them. He didn’t struggle though; it hurt bad enough without doing something stupid. 

He was the reed.

When Envie, Hate, Contempte, and Slaunder, rage:  
Which are the stormes and tempestes of this life;  
With patience then, wee must the combat wage,  
And not with force resist their deadlie strife:   
But suffer still, and then wee shall, in fine,  
Our foes subdue, when they with shame shall pine

He was the reed in Aesop’s fable. He adapted, he survived. If you cut off his head three more grew back and every single one would come back to bite you in the ass. And Moran would pay /dearly/ for this and everything else he’d done to Sebastian. Jim would be sure of it. He dug his finger nails into the wood floor, planning all of the /painful/ things he would make Moran do before the end. The fucker would /pay./ 

Bright hot pain raced down his spine as he felt Moran slowly entering him. He was not prepped enough. He was no way near ready for this and he choked back a shriek by biting down on his hand. God damn god damn god damn fuck fuck fuck. Jim tired to calm down, tried to take a deep breath but he wasn’t entirely successful. He was just glad he hadn’t done something stupid to attack Moran just to make it stop. 

Jim’s shoulders shook under the strain as Moran moved in and out of him, desperately trying to keep himself from sicking up. He focused on not buckling under the man’s weight and the force of his movements. He focused on breathing fully and evenly and he focused on releasing the tension that had his body taunt as a bow. Eventually the fierce pain dulled down to a deep burn but Jim was already pretty sure his insides had torn a bit. Fucking hell it hurt. He let his mind go blank and he waited for it to be over. 

Moran came inside him with a grunt and Jim fought not to be sick. He stayed completely still as the other man pulled out and began cleaning himself up. Jim took a shuttering breath, he couldn’t breathe well because of the crying he’d done and the pain he felt in his body. It was done. /You just have to get up and get out of here./ Still, he couldn’t make his body move right away. 

He felt Moran watch him as Jim made aborted movements towards his trousers that were just out of reach. Moran knelt down and handed him his trousers in a misplaced effort at kindness, “Stupid little gutter brat.” The amusement in his voice set Jim’s teeth on edge and it took everything he had not to spit in his smug face. Now he thought he understood better when Sebastian couldn’t help but incite his father. Moran stood and grabbed his own clothes as he walked to his connecting bathroom and shut the door. After a minute Jim heard the shower start up. 

“God damn it,” Jim whispered as he forced himself to move and get dressed. He didn’t know that he had ever felt so awful. Strictly speaking he wasn’t injured badly, he had a few bumps and bruises and maybe some internal tearing but he’d survive. He’d been beaten worse than this before, a few times, and yet he’d never had this much trouble just getting up and moving. The long walk home was going to be a real bitch, and he didn’t even want to think about what climbing through the window would be like. 

Suddenly he couldn’t stand to be in this house a minute longer and the burst of motivation gave him the strength to move quicker. When Jim was fully dressed he located the hidden camcorder on the bookshelf and pressed the stop button before turning it off and placing it in his jeans pocket. Jim glared at the closed bathroom door one last time before limping towards the hallways and the stairs. 

As he neared the front door Jim pulled out his mobile phone and checked the time. It hadn’t been more than thirty minutes. The assault had sure as hell felt a lot longer than half an hour. Jim shook his head and opened his messenger app, he’d text Sebastian and let him know he was okay and headed back home. 

Jim didn’t have the energy or the ability to concentrate enough to send a full text so he wrote an abbreviation. He clicked send and tucked his phone into his pocket as he limped away to start the long trek back to his house. He felt the reassuring weight of the camera against his leg. Jim smiled up at the sky—he’d done it. 

Jim: (later) omw. JM

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

He managed to stumble over to Jim's and haul himself up to the window, pulling himself in with a little whimper of pain and lying on the floor for a while before getting up. He sneered at the medical kit open on the table then poured himself out a glass of whisky and lay face down on the sofa. Getting through about half of it before he fell asleep.

Jim choked on a breath as he reached up, trying to pull himself up and into the window. He was small and didn't weigh much but he was in rough shape. Eventually he wiggled through, he tore his lip again biting and trying to keep totally quiet. Sebastian was spread out; his huge frame dwarfed the tiny couch. He'd raided his whisky, the bastard. Jim limped over and sat on the floor next to the liquor, leaning his back against the couch near Sebastian's head. He exhaled a breath he'd been holding as he opened the bottle and   
clinked it against the empty glass when he poured himself a drink.

Sebastian had woken at the noise at the window, feeling a horrible tearing sensation in his stomach at the realization that it was Jim coming back. Jim coming back after fucking his dad, and half of London, and not him. He kept his eyes shut though, hearing Jim sit down next to him and the clink of the bottle. Then he spoke, trying to keep his voice light and fairly unconcerned. "Get what you wanted?"

"Oh yeah," he whispered with a smile. The movement stung but he was still riding the high of a successful job, even a shitty one. "That fucker's going down. I have the camera with me though, I was going to get it later but I couldn't risk him finding it in the meantime. So I filched in when he was in the shower." He put down his empty glass, "Speaking of, I really need one too." Jim didn't get up though; he was mostly comfortable where he was and couldn't find the motivation to move just yet. 

It felt like most of his stomach was dropping out now, and the whisky swirling around inside was starting to make him feel sick. He still didn't want to open his eyes, to see what damage had been inflicted. His hand moved up and slid around Jim's throat. "Yeah. You should wash." He managed. He'd decided this morning, nursing the beating, that as Jim didn't want to fuck him and his father was clearly going to keep hurting him that he might as well just get Jim to stop it. He hadn't thought he'd feel this shite afterwards. 

Jim stood slowly, hissing at the painful movement. Worth it though. So worth it. His friend's sanity had been enough of a reason to do it, not to mention the endless possibilities for monetary, political, and personal advancement that blackmailing someone with Moran's influence offered. A fierce grin broke across his face. He would make sure Moran paid for every bit of pain he'd caused his son. Sebastian would never want for anything again. But first, he needed a god damn shower. He turned to look down at Sebastian in the dark, "I'll leave the bathroom door unlocked for you. You know..." His teeth flashed and his eyes reflected the moonlight that streamed through the window, "Just in case you need to puke or something." 

"Fuck off." Sebastian managed sounding tired, and then made himself look up, eyes narrowing as he saw the state of Jim's face. Pushing himself upright he grabbed Jim's shoulders, taking his chin in his fingers and tilting his head from side to side. He didn't want to know, but he couldn't not ask. "Did he fuck you?" he asked bluntly, trying to keep his anger down. 

Jim lost his grin, watching the anger spread over his friend's face. He knew what he looked like, he'd caught his reflection on the way out of Seb's house. His mouth was bruised and his lip was busted. Thankfully that was the only damage to his face. His expression was stony and cold, he felt the exhilaration slip away. "I thought you didn't want to know." He knew Sebastian must be appalled. Jim would have felt the same way if it were Sebastian but it /wasn't/ and that meant it wasn't the /same./ He knew Sebastian was convinced he was straight and maybe one day they could have worked around that, but Sebastian had reacted very badly when he heard about what Jim got around to in his free time. He tried not to act defensively or worse yet, snap back at his friend. Point was nothing was going to happen between them but it still... rankled that Sebastian thought he was some kind of whore. 

Sebastian slid his thumb a little roughly over the bruises on Jim's face, various emotions battling inside him - anger, a certain amount of relief, and still the ache from his own dealings with his father. His thumb slid over the split in Jim's lip, a muscle working in his jaw as he tried to work out whether a fist or a tooth had made it. Deliberately, he reached down and started sliding up the shirt Jim was wearing, trying to assess all the damage. "Yeah, I didn't. But now I do." 

Jim grabbed the bottom of his shirt and stopped Sebastian’s movement. He tried to make a glib remark about the other boy stripping him in the darkened bedroom but it fell flat. “Stop. Leave it Sebastian.” 

Sebastian flinched at the words, stepping back and rubbing a hand over his face. Giving a sigh he sat down on the sofa arm giving a slightly miserable yowl as his arse came into contact with it. "You go shower. and thanks. Can't have been fun. Never thought my dad would get the chance to fuck you before I did." 

Jim folded his arms across his chest and stared the larger boy down. He seemed so much smaller just then, somehow. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Sebastian scowled but he knew that if he didn't get it out now, in a dark room with both of them hurting from his fathers hand and a good glass of whiskey inside him, he'd never say it. Still, the odds of Jim laughing, hitting him, or telling him to fuck off were pretty high. "You know Adler gave me a pretty hard working over. And all the time she was pushing, pushing me to say shit, pushing to work out what I liked, what I wanted. And fuck by the end I told her. Told her what I wanted was that wicked little brain, fucked up mind, skinny little body. Told her I wanted you." It was easier not looking at Jim, directing his comments slightly angrily at the sofa. Reaching down he grabbed the whiskey bottle by the neck and took a swig. "Yeah. you. Then you started whittering on about all the other men you enjoyed fucking, when you've never so much as made a pass at me. So I thought why not add my dad to them if it gets him off my back. Can't hurt. But it does. Does hurt. There you go." 

Jim didn’t think he’d breathed once while Sebastian confessed to him. Never in a million years did he think he’d hear those words coming from his friend. His whirling mind slowed and then came to a halt. “I’m sorry.” It wasn’t more than a whisper, but he didn’t know what else he could say. It was done. There was video. He shied away from the reminder that he would have to watch the video later to make sure everything came out right. That was going to be… Shitty. Everything about this was so fucked up and even he didn’t know how to resolve this situation. “I didn’t know Sebastian.” 

"Not your fault." Jim hadn't laughed, or responded in any of the ways Sebastian had thought he would. In fact he had apologised, which suddenly felt Sebastian feeling like the center of the world had stopped spinning in a rather unpleasant way. Reaching up he stroked his thumb along Jim's sore lip again. "look, this is all a fuck up. There is nothing about this that isn't fucked up. I'm queer, you've slept with my dad, and we're about to blackmail a major politician. Go have a shower. I'll have some more whisky. Then we can patch up our bruises and work out what the fuck we're going to do for the next few days while he goes mad. We'll sort everything else out later." 

He reached up and grabbed the hand touching his mouth. Jim held Sebastian’s hand as he searched his face, looking for something. “Okay,” he whispered. The moment broke and he dropped Sebastian’s hand and turned away, grapping some sweats and a clean towel. “Save some of that for me, don’t drink it all you prat.” He smiled at his friend before heading into the bathroom and closing the door.

Sebastian grinned, then took a shaky breath as Jim disappeared into the shower, scrubbing his hand over his face and then tugging his shirt up over his head and dropping it on the side of the sofa. Tugging the medical kit towards himself he looked at it and sighed, then poured himself a decent shot of whisky and gave a groan. He'd have to patch Jim up, which might require patching up some quite intimate places, depending on what his father had got up to. His lower back was mostly just bruises, so there didn't seem much point in bandages. Instead he went to the kitchen and pulled out another shot glass for Jim, filling it and leaving it next to the first aid kit. 

Jim took care of himself in the bathroom before drawing on sweat pants and nothing else, he figured Sebastian would insist on checking him over and there was no reason he should put a shirt on when he was just going to have to take it off again in a few minutes, especially when he thought the movement might pull at the handful of bruises on his stomach and chest. When he came in Sebastian was standing in his trousers next to the first aid kit and Jim took in a startled breath when he saw the state of Sebastian’s back. That was just—shit. It looked worse than usual. “Shit Seb.” 

Sebastian heard Jim come out but didn't turn around until he spoke. He hadn't been expecting the other to be shirtless and he twitched, his hands balling into fists as he saw the bite-mark, the dark bruise on jim's stomach. He could almost see his father making them, given his own experience. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the first aid kit across the table. "Yeah, this is nothing, you should see my arse. Speaking of which we should clean up yours..." His voice cracked just a little at the end, but he managed to pull himself back with a fair amount of self-control. Given what he wanted to do was storm out the house, run home, and bash his father over the head with a paperweight it was amazing he barely managed to move.

Jim stilled as he ran the towel through his wet hair, and had to remind himself to take a breath. “I er—took care of that already. He didn’t cane me or nothing. I think he was too surprised. I fought him too so he might have just considered me a flight risk.” He watched Sebastian practically tremble with suppressed tension. 

Sebastian came over towards him, putting one had on Jim's shoulder, partly to steady Jim and partly to steady himself. Reaching down he slid his fingers over the bruises and marks, trying to tell how dangerous they were, how much pain Jim might be in. "He never leaves anything that will mark..." he said almost absently, almost to himself. Slowly, his hands moved to the front of Jim's sweat pants, hesitating before tugging them down, waiting for permission. "You did well. Can't ... Can't have been easy." 

Jim knew that this was more for Sebastian that it was for him. He knew as awful as his friend would feel, he’d feel much worse if he thought Jim was hiding some horrible injury from him. Honestly, Jim just felt raw and /tired/, he didn’t have any more fight to combat Sebastian with. Jim was glad Sebastian hadn’t just tugged his sweat pants down though, getting stripped by two Moran’s in one night /had/ to be some sort of record. A giggle bubbled up and it turned out he didn’t have enough in him to fight that either. “It’s alright.” He reached out and touched Sebastian’s arm lightly, it was warm. 

He raised an eyebrow as Jim let out a high pitched giggle, sighing and sliding the sweatpants down, pleased he'd kept his jeans on even if it did hurt like a bitch each time he sat down, because he couldn't help a twitch as he saw Jim suddenly naked. Walking around so he was behind Jim his hands slid down to his arse, gently cupping it before pressing it apart. He let out a small angered hiss at the confirmation that yes, his father had fucked Jim and it looked like it had been fairly brutal. Gently, he swiped a thumb over the sore swollen entrance, "I-I guess just put antibacterial cream on and keep taking paracetamol." His voice shook slightly, and he was pleased Jim couldn't see his expression; angrier than he'd ever been, with just a touch of disappointment and jealousy that made him ashamed.

“Okay,” Jim mumbled. He was feeling subdued again. That definitely meant he needed a drink. He reached out for the tumbler and drank about a third of it. He thought he should probably be more self-conscious being naked in front of Sebastian, especially after that talk they had earlier but he couldn’t find the energy. Everything felt a little further away than it actually was. “Are you mad at me?” He cursed himself for voicing the question out loud; he wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or the weird distance that caused his tongue to loosen. 

"Fuck ... what? No, course not." Sebastian reached over and grabbed the cream from the first aid kit, pressing some onto his thumb, and then stroking the curve of Jim's ass with his other hand, hating himself a little. After what his father had just done the last thing Jim needed right now was to be felt up by another Moran. "This might sting, yeah?" He smoothed the cream quickly over Jim's entrance, feeling his cock twitch again, and then tugged Jim's sweatpants back up again. "I'm not angry at you. Fucking angry at him. But fuck you just did a hell of a thing, and we'll pay him back for every bruise, alright?" 

“Okay.” That seemed to be the only word he could say tonight, he tried to shake his head and dispel the—thing whatever had his head feeling fuzzy. His drink didn’t seem to be helping. There would be time for plotting and maneuvering but he wanted at least six hours of sleep before he thought about it again. “Check my scalp yeah? I bumped my head and the shampoo came out a little bit pink. Then I’ll check you over.” He took another big drink of whiskey. 

It was slightly easier to concentrate with Jim's sweatpants back up, and Sebastian slid his hands through Jim's hair, moving it to check for any damage. He nodded when he found it, relieved that it wasn't anything worse, "Just a small scratch, looked like it got scraped across something. No bump." He came back around to face Jim, rubbing a thumb against the bruise on his jaw. "You got all your teeth? That looks like a proper hit." He was dying to know what exactly had happened, what Jim had said to get socked in the mouth, whether there'd been any prep or lube at all, but he knew now was not the time to ask. "Don't need checking over, it's just bruises." The last thing he needed right now was to be naked in front of Jim. 

Jim laughed again, “I /bit him./ On the mouth. He was sooooo mad. I don’t think I’ve ever been punched that hard in my life! Said if I did it again I’d be shitting teeth. I didn’t, so I think I’ve still got all of mine.” This was good whiskey. 

Sebastian couldn't help a shocked little chuckle at that, stroking Jim's jaw one last time. "Fuck ... that was brave. Bastard, you're lucky he gave you a second chance for that." Grabbing the whisky he took a swig straight from the bottle and then unbuttoned his jeans, "Alright - just check there's no real damage. He got the tawse out and it stings like fucking hell but I don't think there's anything other than bruising." 

Jim blinked and felt his rage rise and he really hoped that he’d be the one to help Seb kill the bastard one day. He tried to keep the inspection hands free as much as possible, he knew Sebastian got really flighty with this kind of thing. While he worked, he talked. “’S not a big thing, really. I’ve-err, done that sort of thing before. With your da. Not like that! Not exactly anyway.” He shook his head a little, trying to clear it. “My Ma got sick remember? She couldn’t work for a few weeks. And I—well we don’t exactly have a lot of extra money lying around and when that run out I had to pay for her medicine and groceries you know? It’s just her and me and—you know. Anyway, I sucked a couple of blokes off as they left the pubs. Usually ended up stealing their wallets while I was at it.” Jim sneered, “Stupid fuckers should know better than to trust a whore, even one as pretty as me. That was around the same time I fucked up my test scores.” Jim took a breath, “Okay, it looks good. There are a couple of lines that looked pretty bad but I don’t think there’s much I can do about it. They’ll just hurt like hell.” 

In a way, Seb was thankful for the anger he felt building up as Jim talked, because it was completely preventing his body from reacting in a more embarrassing way as Jim's hands gently stroked against the hard lines across his arse and back. He turned pretty much as soon as Jim stepped back, grabbing his shoulders and giving him a little shake. "You stupid little fuck, why didn't you ask me for money? I'm practically swimming in it, fuck." He shook his head and sighed, managing to relax enough to let go before he ended up hurting Jim and giving him a pat on the side of the thigh as a very gentle form of slap. "Silly little bastard, I bet you earned plenty though. Let's just get the fuck to bed, you need sleep." 

Jim had genuinely panicked for a moment when Sebastian had turned on him, his expression furious. He’d grabbed his shoulders and- that hurt a little, it’d just been where he’d been manhandled from earlier and-but it was fine. Sebastian wouldn’t hurt him like that. That laughably gentle smack had proven it. He relaxed a minute after Sebastian did and a smirk danced across his face. He wiggled his eyebrows. “Are you going to sleep with me?”

"Well I'm not sleeping on the damn sofa." It came out before he'd fully thought through the implications of what Jim had said and he gave a groan, grabbing his shirt and holding it in front of his crotch to hide any activity before scowling at Jim. "State you're in there's no way you could get any cock in you tonight, especially not mine." Picking the whiskey bottle up he waved it at Jim before heading for the stairs. "You can take the sofa if you like, but the only place I'm sticking my arse is a mattress. Hurts like buggery." 

Jim snorted at his friends antics. “Please, let’s remember which one of us actually /was/ buggered tonight.” He started climbing the stairs and was mildly irritated to find he couldn’t take them as quickly as he’d like to. God damn that was going to be annoying. He was glad for the whiskey because he wasn’t sure he’d be able to make the trip without it. “We can share the bed, I know it’s small but I don’t take up much room. You can deal with it.” 

Sebastian's jaw clenched again as he heard Jim limping up the stairs and sighing, he came back down, picking him up in his arms and shaking his head, "Poor little Jim ... don't worry, I won't ravish you at midnight." He carried Jim the rest of the way, ignoring any protests, and laid him down gently in the bed before taking another swig of whisky and crawling in next to him, holding the bottle up to Jim's bruised jaw, "Go on, have a bit more, last thing you want is to wake up with that aching. Fuck ... I can't believe he actually did it ..." He'd known his father was a bastard, but Sebastian had always accepted he asked for most of the beatings he got, and had sometimes given back as good as he could. Forcibly assaulting a school-friend seemed a step beyond what he'd thought his father was capable of. 

Jim grew serious, he wasn’t sure he wanted Sebastian going back to that house ever again. “Yeah he did it, I guarantee you he’s done it before too. He didn’t hesitate, I barely had to provoke him before he beat the hell out of me and dragged me into the bedroom. By the way, hardwood floors in a bedroom? I think that’s what I hit my head on. Would have preferred carpet burns, honestly.” He took a couple of swigs of the whiskey while he ranted and set the bottle down on the night stand. 

Sebastian made a noise that was half disapproval and half anger, "Like fuck you would, carpet scrapes your skin off, at least knocks heal. And bumps can be anything, a carpet burn is a carpet burn ... now shut the fuck up about it." He desperately wanted to wrap his arms around Jim, but knew that would be a bad idea for many reasons so settled for just poking a non bruised part of him and lying face down in the bed. "Don't you dare snore." he mumbled.

“Fucking on the floor is fucking on the floor. There was a bed /right there/ that’s all I’m saying.” He yawned and stretched carefully as he rolled over on his side, facing Sebastian. “You’re the one lying on your stomach. I’ll kick you if you snore.” 

Sebastian lazily raised two fingers up at him, not bothering to talk, or point out that he could hardly lay any other way. Never the less it took him a long while to get to sleep, every time he closed his eyes he could see the injuries mapped out on Jim's body, along with a different scenario about how such injuries had been caused, Jim's last words, 'fucking on the floor is fucking on the floor' echoing through his head. He fell asleep eventually, confused, angry and drunk, his arm reaching out in sleep to wrap around Jim and pull the warm body closer 

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Seb woke just as the sun was rising, enjoying a small moment of happily cuddling Jim before the events of the night before crashed into him. Swearing under his breath he grabbed at the whisky bottle and left the bed, too sore to pull on jeans he simply tugged his hoodie on and headed downstairs, walking silently to avoid waking Jim. He knew the other was unlikely to give him permission to watch the tape, so he'd have to catch it before Jim woke up. Pushing it into the tape player he turned the volume down, flinching as it started with Jim being physically thrown into the room, scooting backwards and begging. His hands clenched into fists and he felt his jaw twitching again, it was hard to watch but somehow impossible to stop. 

Jim reached out and felt the empty space of the cooling mattress next to him. It took him a few minutes to work it out and remember that Sebastian had stayed the night after the- after. Gods it was too early for this. Jim groaned and sat up slowly, and looked about for his friend. He wasn’t in the bedroom or connecting bathroom, so Jim dragged a shirt over his bare chest and headed out. He checked his mom’s room to make sure she had already left for work and then started down the stairs. Sebastian had carried him last night, much to his embarrassment. He took them slowly and found that he was more sore today than in real pain like last night, he was glad he seemed to be healing well. Jim head noises coming from the living room, curious he moved a bit faster. It sounded like Sebastian had something on the telly. Something niggled at the back of his mind but he ignored it in favor of focusing on taking the stairs one at a time. When he reached the ground floor he was able to see what Sebastian had on the telly. He thought he felt his heart stop. On the small screen he saw his own naked body pressed down into the ground by Moran. He saw his own face dripping tears and a little bit of blood from his temple. He felt his ears roar and fill with the noises that he had blocked out at the time and he couldn’t drag his eyes away from the expression on Moran’s face. “What the /fuck/ do you think you’re doing?”

It had been wrong on so many levels, but part of the film was turning him on, watching Jim struggling, watching his arse bared, and Sebastian growled at the screen, taking an angry swig of the whisky, and then another one as the camera focused for a moment on his fathers face, the satisfied smirking arousal that almost mirrored his own. He'd been focused on it entirely, blocking out everything else except the sight of his father taking the one thing he'd wanted for a while, that he hadn't even noticed Jim entering the room. He jumped as Jim spoke, dropping the remote and turning around guiltily, the shame rushing to fuel his anger further. "Looking at the video. That was the point wasn't it? To use this fucking thing for blackmail? Thought I'd make a start on seeing what a good job you did." Fumbling on the floor to avoid Jim's expression he grabbed the remote and paused, gesturing at the frozen image of semi-naked Jim. "You make a damn good slut."

Jim felt like he’d just been kicked in the gut. He couldn’t breathe. “What the /fuck/ did you just say to me, Moran?” After what he’d told the other boy last night that—that was a shitty thing to say. The room was spinning a little, he thought it might be because he couldn’t breathe. 

Sebastian all but growled at him, taking another swig of the whisky because it seemed the easiest way to deal with things right now, like the fact that what he was doing was insane and what he was saying was cruel, and he really shouldn't been getting hard right now. "I said you made a good slut." He repeated louder. "Wasn't that what you were doing? You knew he was going to fuck you, you knew that had to happen. Did it make a change from all those rugby players and twinks, getting a bit of rough from your best mates dad?" Thankfully he managed to stop himself there, shaking his head a bit to clear it. "Ah fuck, I know you did it for, for me. For us. I know you didn't enjoy it but fuck ... look at you." He waved the bottle at the screen, "All bare arsed and beautiful ... /I/ would have fucked you right then." 

Jim moved faster than he thought he’d be able to in the state he was in and didn’t stop until he was standing in front of Sebastian and slapped him across the face as hard as he could. “Don’t you fucking /dare/. You had no right! Don’t you /ever/ fucking talk to me like that again, you hear?” He was shaking from a mixture of rage, physical pain and hurt and he bared his teeth, hoping it would hide the tremors. 

Sebastian staggered sideways as Jim hit him, more through shock than the force of it. The whisky bottle dropped onto the floor, falling and dripping into the carpet, and he gave a snarl, throwing himself forward and tackling Jim onto the carpet. "Oh I dare ... even if it ends up with me floating face down in a pool like Carl fucking Powers." He pressed himself closer, very much aware that they were both only wearing shirts. "I spent yesterday sitting in your house like a good little lapdog while you whored yourself out to my father and had the fucking audacity to pretend you were doing me a favour. How about you roll over and lay still for me, hmm? That would be a fucking favour." 

Jim snarled and drove his elbow into the larger boy's side. He didn't think to make the connection that Sebastian had taught him that and now he was using it on him, he just felt the rage grow until he couldn't see straight and he just wanted to hurt the way that he was hurting, "Stop! What are you doing!? Get the fuck off of me!" He didn't notice that he was repeating words that he'd said last night to the other Moran. "If you want to rape me, go ahead it's not like I can fucking stop you." Jim rolled his hips and rubbed Sebastian's erection against his body. "Is this what you want? Or how about I suck your dick, huh? Will you stop being mad at me then? Why don't you beat the hell out of me? Break my arm. Make me bleed. I deserve it right? Because I'm a fucking whore."

Sebastian gave a gasp that was half a growl, hissing in pain at each attack, rolling Jim over and letting him shout his rage against the carpet. Raising a hand he slapped it down hard against Jim's ass, as the shirt rucked up in the struggle to reveal naked skin. "Is that all you know how to do, offer your body up? Oh, mums sick, better suck a dick. There's no food, better bend over. Sebbie is in trouble he can't handle, better fuck his dad. Is that just the answer to all of your problems, letting yourself get used like some cheap rent-boy?" Angrily he slammed his hand down again, holding Jim down with the weight of his body. 

Jim continued to struggle, ignoring the pain in his body and the panic that was building just on the edge of his vision. This was way too fast and too soon and too similar to the paused video frame on the television. His breath came hard and fast and he couldn’t breathe where Sebastian was pinning him to the floor. Jim kicked out, trying to break his hold. He knew Sebastian was shouting something at him but he could barely understand the words. His dick gave a little jump when a hand came down on his ass, hard. He couldn’t think to speak beyond the mixture of fury, pain, fear and arousal that clouded his mind. He just continued to buck and lash out regardless of the harm he was doing himself. 

Trying to hold Jim down was becoming almost impossible as he bucked and kicked and struggled, and Sebastian made an impatient noise and then let him go, trying not to look at the picture on the screen, that looked a bit too similar to what they'd just been doing. Grabbing the whisky bottle off the floor he tipped the last few drops that hadn't stained the carpet down his throat, shaking his head, and trying to dampen down the rapidly rising feeling of self-disgust. "Fucks sake calm down, you'll do yourself an injury. Why shouldn't I watch the tape? Were you going to keep it hidden from me? I've spent all damn night trying to imagine what he did to you, at least now I know and you could've had it a lot worse." 

Jim backed away, his breaths still a little too shallow. He distantly recognized a panic attack but he refused to let it show in this situation. He wouldn’t. Sebastian sat across from him on the floor and Jim drew his knees up to his chest as he tried to will his body to calm down. It had been an instinctual response to the situation and the fact that someone with his trust had just scared the hell out of him. “Fuck off,” it was a little breathier than he’d have liked but at least he wasn’t crying. Fuck he didn’t think he’d be able to deal with the humiliation. “It wasn’t any of your business. Would you want me seeing you like that?” He wiped his eyes and took another breath. 

"It doesn't matter what I want. if it happened to me, and you knew there was a video, you'd tear the place apart till you found it." Sebastian snapped back. he could see that Jim was shaken, knew that what he'd done was so far beyond the pale as to be almost unforgivable, but he wasn't about to break into apologies just yet. Instead he moodily kicked the sofa. "Hell, you'd probably make me put it into the damn video player. You always insist on seeing the injuries, after he belts me, and it was you that wanted this 'revenge'. Well, we've got it. A tape." Picking up the remote he ejected the tape and threw it into Jim's lap. "Do what you like with it you've got the power now." 

Jim flinched as he saw the tape fly towards him but it only landed in his lap. “You’re a fucking idiot.” His voice wasn’t quite back to normal yet but it was definitely getting there. “I make you show me so that I can make sure you’re taking care of yourself and aren’t hiding injuries from me. I showed you everything last night, you didn’t need to watch me like that.” He didn’t want to touch the tape so it stayed in his lap. He certainly didn’t feel like he had the power. "But I'm glad you don't think it was bad. 'It could have been worse,' right?" Words were the only way he'd ever been able to hurt Sebastian and he made full use of them now. 

Sebastian kicked the sofa again, still unwilling to mentally face up to the true nature of what he'd done and glowering at the floor, wishing the whisky wasn't empty. "I wanted to see. Wanted to see what he'd done because I’ve been fucking imagining it all night." His head snapped up as the words were mimicked back to him, glaring at Jim, "Damn right it could have been worse. He could've had you bent over the bed for a belting, then set the cane over your skinny arse, then taken you afterwards, with that tight little hole sore and marked. He could've not bothered stretching, or stretched you open with a nice fat ribbed dildo. He could've made you blow him, choked you on his cock and slapped your face when you got it wrong. Fuck yeah it could've been worse." 

Jim paled a little, his lids lowered until he watched Sebastian through his eye lashes. “That’s quite the list you have there Sebastian. It’s a wonder you managed to restrain yourself when you had me pinned down to the floor.” He tilted his head to the side and smiled sardonically, “You’re father certainly didn’t.” 

"I am /nothing/ like him." Sebastian snapped back, followed swiftly by, "You're damn well lucky I didn't, waving your naked little arse around." He was angry, the shame inside him building up into more anger, and he was drunk and horny; not a winning combination. He was almost hyper-aware of the similarities with his father the night before, the difference was that Augustus had been very much aware of what he wanted, whereas Sebastian was just out of control and wanted to hurt something. "Don't tell me you're so vanilla - or were all your lovers and /clients/ like little Wilde."

Jim sneered and decided that it would be worth any humiliation to hurt Sebastian back. “Similar enough that a minute ago /I wasn’t sure where I was./ And by the way, you were right.” He held up his arms to show off, “Carpet burns are worse.” His face got hot, “Fuck off. What I choose to do in the bedroom is my business. You could be as vanilla as you wanted but it still wouldn’t stop you from being a piece of shite.”

Sebastian gave a snarl, backhanding him hard and feeling a deep shot of satisfaction as Jim fell to the floor, too far gone now to even think about pulling back. "You little fucking shit." He took a few deep breaths, staring down at Jim and flexing his hand in and out of a fist, fighting between the urge to keep hitting him and the urge to panic and run away, possibly right out of London. "Maybe I am a piece of shite, but I'm not a piece of shite that plays fucking mind games, asking to fuck my father and boasting about all the sex you'd had. Maybe I do want to fuck you, but at least I'm not pissing around pretending I've heard rumours from Adler, teasing about letting me grope you, all that shit." A few more breaths, then he dropped the whiskey bottle on the floor and stalked over to the cabinet to get another one, ignoring Jim completely. "You're going to end up a wasted rent-boy with a chip on your shoulder and a body that thinks sex is just for manipulation. And you're fucking well worth more than that." 

Jim couldn’t breathe. He laid on the floor for a moment, his face buried in the carped soaked in spilt whiskey. He felt a tear run down his cheek but he rubbed it away angrily. His mouth was bleeding again. He just couldn’t—couldn’t think anymore. Sebastian had never /ever/ hit him before. /Swore/ he never would. Jim thought he knew what Sebastian had been talking about, asking for a beating, deserving it. He couldn’t say anything to deny what Sebastian had said, he /had/ teased him, he’d provoked him. Why? Had he really thought he’d wanted this? That he’d in any way deserved it? Sebastian was the wealthy son of a politician. Jim was the bastard son of a laundress with a father who had packed up and taken off when his wife chased him out of the house. This kind of thing always seemed to happen when two people came from different worlds, and the Jims usually landed in the shitter. Sebastian didn’t call him gutter brat for nothing. 

Sebastian poured out the whisky and looked at it for a few seconds, his brain finally starting to catch up with his actions and inducing some serious panic. Shit. He'd hit Jim. That was some serious floating upside-down in the swimming pool shit, but it was also something more than that. Some fundamental contract between them had been broken, and he'd been the one to break it. He took a gulp of the whisky, then turned back, coming over to Jim on the floor and crouching down next to him. "Fuck. Fucked up. 'M Sorry. Just don't know... not sure how to fucking cope with what you did last night..." 

"That makes two of us at least," Jim whispered and sat himself up, wiping away the blood from his mouth. He thought he might have bitten his tongue this time. Jim stood up, not feeling comfortable with lying on the floor with Sebastian so close to him. 

Sebastian stayed crouched down as Jim got up, not wanting to loom over him again, and also not wanting to reveal that his brain was screeching at him in freewheeling panic. In a way he was glad that Jim's time with his father hadn't been just another trick, but something far more intense and terrifying even for Jim to process. Shakily, he rubbed a hand over his face, not looking at Jim. "Still, it's our first attempt at blackmailing a politician with a sex-tape, I mean it's not like we're experts yet." 

Jim couldn't help a giggle from escaping, "Next time you can be the one to get buggered." He went absolutely still and stared Sebastian down from his place above him. He felt blood from his lip drip down his chin. "If you /ever/ touch me like that again without my permission you'll get worse than little Carl Powers, do you understand me?" 

Normally Sebastian would have grinned but right now he was almost serious as he nodded at the mention of a next time. Right now, in a hazy drunken state, with not enough sleep and an arse still aching and still panicking from hitting Jim he was pretty sure he would have agreed to get buggered. Still looking at the floor, he nodded at the next sentence as well, hoping Jim could see the fervent belief behind that nod. It wasn't the fear of punishment, it was the fear that he'd lost control, in front of Jim, that he'd broken the only thing he was halfway good for - protecting Jim. "Yeah..." he managed to croak back and then after licking his lips. "Yes boss."

Jim’s mouth twisted, “The politician’s son calls the wasted rent boy ‘Boss…’” He stepped into the kitchen and grabbed some ice from the freezer and wrapped it in a hand towel to put on his mouth. 

Sebastian did another angry scowl at the floor, feeling like a twat, but also feeling he deserved it. He looked up as Jim went into the kitchen, then picked up the tape from the floor and lay it neatly on the table, sitting down on the floor, and wincing a little as he saw Jim come back. The ice on his lip reminded him of the damage he'd done, and he hated to think that Jim was hurting because of him. He gave a half shrug at Jim's words. "Well in this operation you are the boss. You planned it, you carried it out, I've just been placing cameras and hanging around." 

“And you did such a good job. But I suppose you know that already,” Jim said, indicating the tape. “No matter, this job is almost finished.” He paused, held a breath and let it out. “And it’s going to be /worth it./” 

Sebastian couldn't help another little shake as Jim indicated the tape again, trying not to think of the part he'd played in the whole thing, and resisting the urge to snap back more vile and hateful words. "Yeah? What do you have planned then." He managed a half smile, "If you can reveal it right now, that is, otherwise I'll have to wait."


	2. Complications

I have a job for you, it's to do with your father. JM

Sure. What do you need me to do? SM 

Do you know Richard Ashworth? He's a magistrate. You might have met him before. JM 

Yeah, Dad knows him. He's come to various embassy do's and shit. Do we need to have sex with him now? –SM 

No you tosser. JM 

I need you to scout out his house tonight. Keep an eye out for any vulnerable entry points. JM 

Oh right, I can do that. Been there before. Not to look at though, we just went straight through the front door –SM 

Well in the future I'd appreciate it if you would think ahead when you are invited into important people's homes. JM 

It's not a problem, you'll just go back tonight and find an entry point. It doesn't have to be big, just enough that I could fit through. JM 

Yeah well this was five years ago. Didn't even know you then. –SM 

I'll find one, don't you worry. –SM 

You aren't even going to ask me why I want to break into a magistrate's house? JM 

I'm pretty sure you have a good reason. –SM 

True. I believe your father has been speaking to Mr. Ashworth about our agreement. Probably asking the old vet how to get out of it. I might need access to his home in the near   
future so I'm sending you. Think you can handle it? JM 

Course I can handle it. I'll scoot out tonight and have a quick decko round the house. There's bound to be some sort of odd window or cellar you could worm your way through. –SM 

Alright, text me when it's done. Good luck. JM

Boss. It, uh. Didn't go too well. Sorry. –SM 

What do you mean "it didn't go too well?" JM 

I got a good look at the outer gate, found a way through that. –SM 

Didn't find a way through the bodyguards. –SM 

Six of them. –SM 

And two more on a radio system who stayed at their posts. –SM 

Fuck. JM

I take it they didn't just let you leave with a slap on the wrist? JM 

They were a bit more emphatic yeah. –SM 

Good news, they didn't know who I was, just thought i was there to nick stuff. –SM 

Fuck. JM

It could have been worse? JM

I can still walk yeah. Nothings really broken. –SM 

Is something "kind of" broken? JM 

Ankle. That was my fault. Tried to get away. –SM 

Shit Seb. Come over, I'm at home. JM 

I'm on my way. Can't walk all that fast. –SM 

How far are you? JM 

Still pretty far out amongst the big posh houses. –SM 

My ma walked to work today, I can take the car. Just sit down and don't move anymore on that foot, I'll be there soon. JM 

Acorn avenue. I'll just loiter around at the end of the road looking suspicious –SM 

Don't cause any more trouble. I'll be there soon. JM 

I'm not causing anything! I'm just a built teenager hanging round a posh part of time covered in blood and wearing a hoodie. –SM 

Jim followed his mental map and followed the path that Seb would have taken from Ashworth's house. This was just /brilliant./ He couldn't remember fucking up so bad. Eventually he found Sebastian sitting on a street corner looking tired and worn out. Jim pulled up in front of him and unlocked the passenger side door. "Get in." He wanted to get out of this area as quickly as possible. His ma's beat up and run down car was horribly noticeable in this part of town. 

Sebastian pulled himself upright, tugging the door open and collapsing down onto the car seat, not quite hiding a little groan of pain as he did so. He didn't even look at Jim - he'd been given a task and he'd failed to carry it out. What else could he say? Instead he glared at the dashboard and then wiped at the blood on his cheek with his hoodie sleeve. 

Jim looked Seb over, as much as he could see with the baggy hoodie on. He’d hoped Seb had been joking about the blood. “You’re an idiot.” Jim focused on driving and getting them back to his house so he could fix his friend up. It was a good thing he’d restocked the first aid kit after their little adventure last week. 

In a way, the snapped tone from Jim boosted his confidence a little. Jim acting concerned, or sympathetic, would make him feel like he hadn't even been expected to cope. If Jim felt he should still be tough enough for this, then he would damn well be tough. Luckily his hoodie hid most of the damage, even Seb wasn't sure what his ribs looked like. "Got a bit cocky, yeah." he admitted, "Wasn't expecting bodyguards. So I can't get you into the house but hopefully..." he gave a little hiss of pain as they went over a speed bump, "got some stuff about the general house security." 

“You can tell me after you’ve been cleaned up. We’ll be there soon.” Jim stepped on the gas and watched Sebastian out of the corner of his eye. “Did you get hit in the head? Should I be worried about a concussion?” 

Sebastian shook his head, back of his teeth clenched together, still not looking at Jim and still feeling pretty shit about letting Jim down quite so badly. "Managed to protect my head. They were just being prats at first, threatening me and trying to get me to piss myself. Then when I made a run for it they got more serious.”

Jim sighed heavily, “Well thank heaven for small mercies.” He pulled into his driveway and pulled his keys out of the ignition. “Come on, let’s get you inside. There’s alcohol and a first aid kit, I think you’ll need both. Maybe a shower, you smell like dirt.” 

Sebastian scowled even more at the answer, but didn't say anything. Meeting a group of proper bodyguards had given him an excellent view of what a proper bodyguard should be like - the answer being several pounds heavier and a lot more built. "Yeah well I spent a bit of time in the dirt." He mumbled and then, as he stumbled out of the car. "And I don't need to get drunk. I'm fine.” 

"Yeah it looks like you are having enough coordination problems as is." Jim unlocked the front door and crossed to the kitchen. "You go and have a shower. There's a clean towel under the sink. Come back down here when you're through. You should be able to find some of your clothes in one of my dresser drawers. Don't bother with a shirt until you get bandaged up." Jim poured himself a small glass of gin and got lemonade from the fridge. 

"You don't need to nurse me..." Sebastian grumbled but did as he was told, still feeling like a bit of a failure. In the shower he looked over his body, shaking his head and trying to mentally list all the things that he needed to change to improve. More workouts, obviously, the strength of the bodyguards had been truly amazing. More training in boxing, wrestling ... not to mention they'd been aided by night goggles and various weaponry. He wrapped a towel around his waist and then, embarrassed about the visible damage, draped another around his shoulders before coming back in. 

Jim felt his gut twist when Sebastian came out partially covered in towels. He decided it was from the alcohol and not guilt over the state of his friend. “You look like shit.” He pulled the med kit out. “Sit your arse on the couch and don’t get up until I tell you to.” Jim scowled up at Sebastian, he wasn’t going to fuck around and pander to Sebastian’s pride. He would behave or Jim would make him, that was all there was to it. 

He knew if Jim had hesitated, looked uncertain, started showing sympathy, Sebastian would have sneered at him and stormed upstairs. Instead there was still the snappy tone which made it clear that he'd fucked up. So he sat obediently, trying to think more about how he could half-way salvage this rather than about how Jim looked holding a glass of gin and giving him orders. "They knew what they were doing. Highly trained. But bored. They were placed around the perimeter and six of them ended up where I was, should have been four at the very most, they'll have left a massive gap exposed. You don't need six Serbian mercenaries to deal with one lost punk, no matter how much fun it is to slap him around." 

Jim nodded and set his glass down next to the med kit. “I can work with that. What does he need at least eight security guards for anyway?” Jim took off the towel covering Seb’s shoulders and hissed at the bruising. “You’re an idiot. /Sit down./” He poked hard at one of the lesser bruised ribs. “You’re a giant, I’m not patching you up if you are going to tower over me like a gorilla.” He took a drink of his gin. 

Seb gave a pained yelp and then almost surprised himself with a grin, sitting obediently and tugging the other towel away, bunching it up over his crotch but leaving the rest of his body available. "Owww ... fuck me if I know. Guy obviously feels insecure. Or maybe just has a tiny dick. I'd rather not be the bait again this time though ... they might be a bit less pleasant if I break in a second time." He looked slightly longingly at the gin, wishing he hadn't been quite so principled earlier, but he could hardly change his mind now. His ankle was bruised and slightly puffy but he still wasn't sure if it was a minor break or a very bad sprain. 

Jim set down his glass and coated a q-tip in hydrogen peroxide. “You aren’t playing bait, I can find any old idiot to do that.” He grabbed Sebastian’s chin sharply with irritation. “This might sting.” And he pressed the q-tip against the cut on Sebastian’s face. 

Sebastian gave a sharp intake of breath as Jim grabbed his chin and held it firmly, his back teeth gritting together and only the smallest whine escaping him as the stinging q-tip sent a line of fire right through the cut on his face. Slightly more alarming though, was the almost instant hard on that had him clutching at the towel, staring into Jim's eyes in a desperate bid to prevent the other looking downwards and noticing. "Yeah, stings a bit." He managed once he'd got a bit more under control. "Might - might have a bit of that gin if you're going to do that to every scratch I've picked up." 

Jim snorted, “knew it wouldn’t last. Lemonade or no?” He set the q-tip down and walked into the kitchen. “And yes you idiot, I’m going to clean anything that could lead to an infection. That ankle is going to have you out of commission for a while, I’m not going to have you out for even longer just because you don’t want to take care of yourself.” 

"Just gin." Sebastian said gratefully, scrabbling at the towel with a hissed, "shit, shit, shit" as soon as Jim had exited the room, and feeling slightly more comfortable when he managed to get more adequate coverage for his hard on, and that he could lift one hand up without revealing anything. It had been an ... interesting reaction to what Jim had done, but he certainly didn't want to publicize it, particularly after just spectacularly failing at a job. 

Jim came back in with Sebastian’s drink, looking him over from further away. He really did look like shit. “Alright, drink up. It’s not going to get much better as I go. I’ll save the ankle for last though, that seems to be the worst bit.” Jim pressed an obnoxious bandage across Seb’s face where he got cut. If he didn’t like it then he could do better to not get injured all the time. He continued cleaning and bandaging various bruises and cuts he found, most of them seemed to be on Seb’s back. He’d probably curled up to protect his face and stomach. Jim was definitely not staring at his exposed arse. Nope. Not at all. He was a professional. Maybe he should lay off the gin a bit. 

When the guards had first caught him, one of them had held his arms back, but thankfully at that point they'd found it more fun to threaten, taunt, slap his face and make up ridiculous threats about what they would do to him. Once he'd twisted away and tried to run, and spat back a few of his own insults as they'd grabbed his leg, tugged him back and stamped on his ankle to keep him still, they'd thankfully been irritated enough to let him stay curled protectively on the floor while they kicked and hit at him. He knew he'd never reveal it to Jim unless directly asked but he could already see the other putting together the events of the evening from the pattern of bruises and marks, flushing a little as the dark eyes raked over his skin. Downing the little shot of gin he stuck the glass back on the table, his cock still twitching excitedly each time the Q-tip was dragged over an open graze. "At least I don't need stitches or anything." He managed optimistically. 

“It would serve you right if I had to give you stitches. I’d do a shitty job and leave you with a nasty scar.” Jim finished bandaging up what needed bandaged and knelt down in front of Sebastian so he could look at his ankle. “Lucky none of those ribs are broken. This looks sprained. I can deal with this here, you won’t even have to go to a hospital.” Jim took out a compression bandage and carefully wrapped it around the other boy’s ankle to control the swelling. “There. We’ll leave that on for a bit. Prop the foot up on some pillows, I’m going to get another drink and get you some ice.” 

"Chicks dig scars." Sebastian smirked, "I'd look like a proper scrapper then. Should get one across my face, that'll make the next lot of bodyguards think twice." His cock bobbed yet again as Jim knelt down in front of him and he frantically looked everywhere but down, everywhere but where the dark little head was bobbing between his legs. Thankfully the aching pain in his ankle was just that ... hard unpleasant and uncomfortable pain and by the time it was bandaged he'd pretty much controlled himself. Chucking pillows off the sofa he lifted his ankle onto it and shook his head. "That was bloody stupid. I should've been prepared, should've been ... something. You could've given me a bit of warning." 

Jim’s gaze chilled and he felt the anger he had been ignoring bubble to the surface. “You think I would have withheld information from you on purpose? Do you really think I wanted everything to go to hell like this? I fucked up, okay? I didn’t know about the guards, and you didn’t either. It was shitty and it happened. You can be pissed at me but if you think that this was my intention then you can go fuck yourself.” 

Sebastian hadn't been expecting the outburst and stared at him, shocked. His first feeling was a hot rush of disappointment that almost made him feel slightly sick. He'd decided to let Jim be the boss - but if Sebastian was going to be bossed around by anyone that person had to be top dog. And here was Jim admitting he'd made a mistake, a rather crucial mistake, and that things were fucked up. The disappointment and fear quickly turned into anger as well, with plenty of his own inadequacy to fuel it. "Well that apology took long enough. What do I have to have a limb practically dangling off before the great brain of Jim Moriarty might admit it made a tiny bit of a mistake throwing me into a pack of heavily armed bodyguards. Hell Jim, if they'd thought I was a proper intruder instead of some kid I could've been shot." 

Jim had a hard enough time admitting his own mistakes but he wouldn’t tolerate anyone else pointing them out. “Fuck you. Quit being such a fucking baby. You’re fine and you didn’t get shot so suck it up Moran. If you had used your brain and not just waltzed in there like it was the fucking Ritz then maybe we wouldn’t be here.” 

The fact that Jim was half correct just made it worse - Seb knew he should get better at taking pain, and he also knew he'd been far too blase about what to expect. "They had night vision goggles." He snarled. "Rifle sights, full night-time camo, the lot. I was just there in trainers and dark jeans, what the hell was I expected to do?" he knew he didn't want sympathy from Jim, but he was already feeling like a failure and it seemed blatantly unfair that Jim got to rub it in. "Admit it Moriarty, you fucked up, and you fucked up properly. Almost lost the only person who'll stick around and put up with your shit."

Jim snarled, “Yeah! I fucked up! Admitting it doesn’t make me weak like you seem to think it does. Only a coward won’t admit his mistakes and tries to pretend that everything is fine and dandy or blame someone else. The point is- I can /fix/ this.” 

"Admitting it doesn't make you weak you stupid little bitch." Sebastian snarled back. He'd almost preferred it when Jim was blaming him, at least that was something he could control, he could change. "Making mistakes in the first place makes you weak, makes you vulnerable, and if you're vulnerable what the hell am I?" He grabbed at the gin bottle moodily, his hard on almost completely gone now, and his earlier discipline regarding not getting drunk vanishing completely. 

“You’re the one who’s fucking weak if you’re going to piss yourself over feeling like a helpless little twat!” Jim turned and began packing up the med kit, afraid if he didn’t distract himself that he’d lose control of his temper. “Everything I do is for security, what the fuck do you think this whole thing is for? But sometimes it doesn’t go right the first time or you get in over your head. Only a spineless idiot spends time crying over shit like that instead of planning a counter.” 

"Weak? I've just spent the last few hours getting tossed around like a rag doll by guards that /you/ didn't think to check existed." Sebastian stood up at that, dropping the towel, not particularly caring about being naked. Grabbing the front of Jim's shirt he yanked him forward, watching the medical kit tumble to the floor, "I ought to fucking slap you one for that-" and then his brain finally caught up with what he was doing and it felt like a tub of ice-water had just been dumped down his back. He stared at Jim in shock for a moment and then put him down, trembling, sinking all the way down to collapse in a sitting position on the carpet and said very quietly, "Fuck."

Jim’s breath came harshly and he took a deliberate step back. This shit wasn’t going to keep happening. His voice took on a cool, patronizing tone. “Do you want to slap me Seb? Does it make you feel better? Are you really so fucking predictable? ‘Oh, I get my teeth kicked in and now I want to beat up on someone who is half my size.’ You’d feel in control then? Well why don’t you. Beat me bloody, fuck me up, if it’ll make you /feel better/ I guess that’s all that matters to that tiny little brain of yours.”

Sebastian shook his head, mute, staring at the floor. He felt agonizingly conflicted, part of him wanted to grab Jim and pummel him into the side of the wall for daring to have a single flaw, but he knew after that there would be no option other than to drink a bottle of gin and then go out and find some hard drugs to start using so that he never had to face reality again. The other part of him was almost ready to beg, to try and show Jim that he could still be useful, that he could still be worthwhile. And at the same time his ankle was throbbing painfully hard against the bandage. He had no idea what to say so he settled for mumbling "Sorry boss."

“Don’t call me that. You’re a fucking coward and until you learn to control yourself you’re a liability.” Jim stared down at Sebastian who was huddled naked on the floor and couldn’t find any pity for him. “Like your father is.” 

The words about his father just stung, like every other ache on his body, but the word "liability" cut straight through him and he gritted his back teeth together, trying not to do something stupid like cry, or throw a gin bottle at Jim. He flinched a little as Jim said it, taking a deep breath and then letting it out when he couldn't find anything to do with it. The best thing, he knew, would be to walk out and just let the mad little fuck get on with his life, but Sebastian knew he'd never find anything even half as interesting as a life with Jim, and also he was naked. Hopping around trying to fit his jeans through a swollen ankle wouldn't do anything for a grand exit. "Then I will." he muttered eventually, "I will control myself. I didn't hit you, did I?" 

Jim was just fucking tired but he couldn’t let that show now. Before he might have been comfortable with expressing that sort of thing to his friend; now his value lay in Sebastian’s idea of what a perfect human was. What humanity Jim had was repellant to Sebastian and Jim couldn’t really blame him. He’d thought that—maybe he could trust Sebastian with those things. His weaknesses. Because how was Sebastian supposed to have his back when he didn’t even know where his back was? It was a stupid thing to want. Sebastian didn’t want Jim to be his friend, or his fucking buddy. Jim needed to grow the fuck up. “If you had, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” Jim turned away and grabbed a towel before throwing it on Sebastian’s lap. “Get your shit together, you’re sleeping upstairs in the bedroom tonight. Your clothes are in the top drawer of the dresser.” 

Sebastian looked down at the towel. Now would be the perfect time to just fuck off, but despite feeling highly ashamed and completely inadequate he knew he wouldn't. Nobody else on earth had the power to make him feel like this, which was why he /needed/ to stick with Jim, after which nothing else would be even halfway interesting. Grabbing the towel he pushed himself up, going white as the pressure on his leg made it instantly give way and collapsing back down again with a raw white streak of pain. "Fuck ... I ... shit." This was going to be a perfect end to a highly humiliating day. "Can't get up." 

Jim felt that twist in his gut and he sneered to cover it. “You are so fucking eloquent. I should just leave you here to figure it out.” But Jim reached out one of his hands so that Sebastian would have some help getting off the floor. 

His face flushed at that; yet another way he seemed to have managed to screw up, but he put his hand on Jim's, trying to lever himself up without putting too much pressure on the smaller teen, the last thing he wanted was to see Jim stumbling and falling. He could tell as soon as he stood that something much worse had now happened to his ankle but he limped determinedly towards the stairs, the towel trailing behind him, his efforts focused more on trying not to be sick rather than on keeping his crotch covered. 

Jim let out a shaky breath when he saw that Sebastian had gone. /That stupid stupid fuck!/ He turned and began cleaning up the med kit that spilled everywhere during the fight. Jim grit his teeth when he thought about how stupid he’d been and how obvious everything seemed now. Sebastian wasn’t his fucking friend, he… worked for him or… with him… they were in a mutually beneficial relationship! It wasn’t Sebastian’s fault that, like he’d throw in Jim’s face earlier, he was one of the few people that could stand to be around Jim. He was desperately trying not to think too much about last week- about what he did and the fight they had and- he hadn’t gotten leverage because he /cared/ about Sebastian. He was just securing a working relationship. Any dirt Jim had on Sebastian’s father ultimately worked for Sebastian as well as long as he wanted to be able to dip into daddy’s money. Jim closed up the kit and sat down on the couch with the gin bottle and his glass. He’d be sleeping on the couch tonight but he’d have the booze to keep him company. 

Sebastian managed to get to the top of the stairs without keeling over, but any further than that suddenly seemed like a huge trek, and his stomach wasn't really up to it. He was more than happy to collapse on the carpet, tugging the towel over his body and closing his eyes, waiting for things to stop spinning quite so much. He knew he should try and get his mind straight, work out why Jim's words had upset him so much, what it was that he was looking for in their shaky friendship, and maybe even write a list of how not to fuck up again. But he was tired and his body ached and the jeering words of the bodyguards were still echoing unpleasantly through him. His best bet seemed to be to write the day off as a fuckup and hope that his ankle would be a bit better the next day. 

Jim heard a loud thud from upstairs and figured that was probably Sebastian landing on his arse. He wiped his hands across his face and knew that he couldn’t just leave him there. His ma would be home eventually and she’d be very unhappy if Jim left a bruised naked man lying around the house for her to trip on in the dark. He stood and climbed the stairs after about ten minutes when he didn’t hear Sebastian get up. Jim saw him dozing against a wall with the towel pooled in his lap. “Bastard, are you planning on just sleeping in the hallway all night? You want to give the old lady a heart attack?” 

Sebastian gave a little moan as he was woken up, annoyed that the world wanted him back in it, where there was pain and a huge number of failures he felt mostly responsible for. He winced and looked away when he saw Jim above him, trying to gear up to moving himself, while the screaming pressure in his ankle advised against it. "I-I've buggered my leg up." He tried to sound as matter of fact as he could, rather than winging, and then let his head drop, "Fuck, sorry Jim, buggered it all up didn't I? And you were all there to patch me up. I know it wasn't ... wasn't your fault. They were fucks. Huuurts." The last word came out more of a whine than he would have liked, but there wasn't much he could do about it now."

Jim felt himself soften a bit, “I know. It’s just going to hurt worse tomorrow if you spend the night on the floor. You need to sleep in a bed with your foot elevated. Give me your hands, I can help pull you up if you can get your good foot under you.” 

"I, shit..." Sebastian held his hands out, using Jim to get upright and grabbing at the bannister with a grunt of pain. "Just ... feels like ... fuck Jim they knew their stuff, and all the gear they had. They thought I was just some punk, and fuck they were right. Need to get more together. Dammit." He managed a smile as they reached the bedroom door, the hand over Jim's shoulders gentle tugging on his hair. "Don't drink all the gin, yeah?" 

Jim ducked away from the hair pulling and almost dropped Seb in the process, “quit that. And it’s my gin, I can do what I like with it.” Jim helped Sebastian limp over to the bed and set him down as gently as he could… which wasn’t all that much because Seb was so fucking heavy. “It’s my job to worry about that other shit. You did fine. You didn’t die, I’m going to count that as a win.” 

Sebastian raised an eyebrow at him, collapsing down on the bed for a minute before swinging his legs into it. "I went on what was meant to be a reconnaissance mission and got slapped around by six guards. I got back here with a sprained ankle and made it worse by jumping around all over it. I got turned on while my best mate patched me up, then threatened him, then fucked up my leg completely, then fell asleep on the stairs. Not sure that counts as a win." He tugged at Jim's wrist, "Stay here boss, c'mon. You'll only get rat-arsed otherwise." 

Jim felt the tips of his ears go pink. He was pretty sure Sebastian hadn’t meant to say that bit about getting turned on. “The job wasn’t your fault. The rest of it was just you being stupid.” Jim tucked Sebastian in a bit and propped his leg up on some pillows. “What’s wrong with getting rat-arsed?” 

"Yeah I could've maybe been a bit more careful, and slightly less clueless." Sebastian wasn't really filtering everything that came through his mouth, not with his ankle in this state. "Heh ... the first few minutes were funny though, they had no fucking clue who I was, trying to work out whether I was a posh blond terrorist." It felt a lot better with his leg up. "Nothing wrong with it, but you'll be grumpy with a hangover tomorrow and I need nursing by someone who can function." He tried a grin although it twisted a bit. "I guess we're both still figuring out this whole 'blackmailing people and sneaking into big houses' thing." 

Jim rolled his eyes and dug around in one of his drawers until he found a bottle of paracetamol. “Take a few of those, it’ll help with the pain and swelling.” He tossed the bottle to Seb and sat on the other side of the bed, away from his leg. “Yeah I’m sure it was absolutely hysterical. I think you’ve gone a bit funny in the head Moran. Especially if you think I’m going to nurse your sorry arse, hang over or no.” Jim started to sit up, “It’s not a good idea for me to sleep up here, regardless. I should go back.” 

"Yeah, yeah, course I don't expect you to nurse me, just throw me some food every now and again, yeah? Or I'll lose my rugged good looks." Sebastian took a few pills out of the bottle and bolted them down, swallowing without water and then laying back, giving a slightly mournful kicked-dog look as Jim stood up. "You can always bring the gin back up..." he tried a bit helplessly. He desperately wanted the comfort of someone else in the bed next to him, but he could hardly beg about Jim. "It's not a /bad/ idea - if I stop breathing during the night you can call the ambulance, or laugh or something." 

Jim sighed heavily. “The bed barely fits you. I doubt you want me elbowing you when I turn over in my sleep.” Still he climbed up on top of the blankets, still fully dressed. He was less worried about aggravating Sebastian’s injuries as he was about aggravating his temper or arousal or both. After the fight’s they’d been having sleeping next to each other while one of them was undressed seemed like a mistake waiting to happen. “Don’t worry, I won’t have to feed you. Ma will.” 

Sebastian gave him a grateful smile as Jim crawled in next to him, closing his eyes and swallowing down bile, hoping that sleep would make the pain die down a little. "Don't worry..." he murmured, "I'm not going to jump you with a broken ankle, I'm not /that/ fucking stupid." He managed a small smile, "Waking up spooning Jim Moriarty is probably the quickest way to get my dick cut off." 

“Geez, glad to know my virtue will still be intact by morning.” Jim rolled his eyes and tried to position himself comfortably on the twin bed without hurting Sebastian. “You’re a real saint, you know?” 

"I'll get it someday." Was the last thing Sebastian murmured before he fell asleep, thankfully he didn't remember saying it the next morning. The exhaustion and emotional intensity made him pretty much pass out, flat on his back and snoring through the night while his ankle swelled against the wrapping. 

Jim rolled his eyes and turned so his back was pressed against Sebastian’s side through the covers. “You’re an idiot.” He fell asleep but his dreams weren’t peaceful. 

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Sebastian was finally woken up by the telephone ringing, groaning and tugging the duvet over his head. His ankle was still spiking in pain and he mentally swore at himself for the actions of the night before. Why had he snapped at Jim? Why had he tried to stand up? Jim was lying next to him and he felt absurdly grateful that however badly he'd fucked up it hadn't been badly enough to be abandoned. The house phone continued to ring, and he gave Jim a little poke, "Think someone wants to speak to you. What time is it?" 

Jim startled a little and sat up suddenly, “What? Sebastian?” He was fully awake but it took his mind a moment more to catch up. “Oh, I’ll get it, it’s probably for my mum.” Jim got out of bed and went downstairs to the kitchen where the phone was still ringing. He cleared the sleep from his voice and pressed the answer button. “Hello this is Moriarty?” 

"Jim Moriarty." Augustus Moran was sober this time, sounding stiff and formal. His relationship with Jim had changed in complicated ways he wasn't sure about, but he still had the memories of the annoying little shit crying out while he fucked him, which made things a little easier. "Is my son there? Don't worry, I'm not going to give him the beating he richly deserves. I'm just a little concerned that someone might already have done so and I'd rather have him with a private Doctor than rotting away in your house. With your permission." He added with an exaggerated care.

Jim shuddered a little at unexpectedly hearing that voice in his ear, but when he spoke his voice was strong. “I’ll have to ask Sebastian what he wants to do, of course.” 

"Of course." Augustus's voice sounded slightly amused. "Or you could just tell him to get his lazy arse to the hospital so he can get sorted out. I'm sure you've noticed he's a stubborn little bastard when he wants to be, but it's in both of our interests that he doesn't end up damaged. He doesn't listen to me, but he does listen to you. And I know you think I'm some kind of monster but I give it less than two months before you get fed up enough to beat him. Why he'd take it from something like /you/ I have no idea, but he would." 

Jim smirked a little, despite how unnerving this conversation was. “Yeah, you’re right. He’s stubborn as hell and doesn’t listen when he should and he also listens when he shouldn’t. But Sebastian is also loyal and that’s something that interests me. He doesn’t need beating, he’ll just do it. Whatever I ask him. I don’t need crude methods to keep him in line. Sebastian will do what he thinks is best and right now he thinks that means hanging around with me. It’s in my best interest to keep him loyal and willing, I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize that, like beating him senseless.” 

"Sebastian has no idea what's best for him, or he wouldn't hang around with you." It came out more vicious than Augustus had planned and he managed to regain his composure before continuing. "I know my son, James Moriarty, even if I don't understand him. I'm not talking about beating him senseless, satisfying though it is, I'm talking about keeping him in line. You think he's loyal now? Try taking a belt to him, he'll worship you. In the mean time I suggest you get him to hospital, or I can give you the number of his private Doctor if he'll be a little hard to, uh, /explain/ in hospital." 

Jim laughed a little and decided to see if he could throw Moran off balance a bit, “What we do in the bedroom is frankly none of your business, but I can tell you that he does worship me. And my belt. I can assure you that everything is consensual, which is more than I can say for you.” Jim paused for a moment, letting Moran sit and think about Jim’s bluff. “I’ll take that phone number though, Sebastian can decide if he’d rather go to a hospital or not, thank you for your consideration.” 

For a moment there was nothing but silence at the other end of the phone, then Augustus read out the number, one letter at a time, his voice remaining neutral. Afterwards, there was another slight pause and then Augustus said, surprisingly mildly, "You know, I couldn't tell when I fucked you whether you were a poofter or not. Now I know. Do please get Sebastian patched up, as I'm sure you've realised I have a fair idea what happened to him, but tell him not to bother coming home. It really is a pity he didn't make something of his life. And as for you, you silly little boy, next time you try playing games with people who've spent their whole lives working with insurgents and crime-threats let’s hope you don't fuck it up quite so badly. How did you manage when he got back, hmm? Quickly think of a solution, get him patched up with minimal fuss, reassure his ego and reassess your capabilities? Or did you just both shout at each other like stupid teenagers and then get drunk? Please don't answer, I'd rather pretend my son hadn't thrown in his lot with a /complete/ waste of space." With that the phone hung up with a small 'click'. 

Jim sighed heavily and wiped his hands across his face, “/Fuck./” Jim took an extra minute to calm himself down and get his thoughts in order before he headed back upstairs. Sebastian was still in bed when he got there, thank god. “Your father called.” 

Sebastian had heard Jim's voice, but hadn't managed to hear most of the conversation, being rather preoccupied with his ankle instead, prodding it and poking it and desperately trying to convince himself against all available evidence that it wasn't broken. He raised an eyebrow at Jim's words, feeling his heart hammering loudly. "What did that old bastard want, someone to fetch his slippers?" He paused, noticing Jim seemed slightly off balance. "Oh fuck he doesn't know does he? About ... this?" He gestured at his leg. "Please tell me he doesn't know I got my arse handed to me by his mates security..." 

Jim looked away, “He does. I didn’t tell him if it makes you feel any better. He called because he knew and offered the number of your private doctor. You can decide if you’d rather go to a hospital though. If it helps your decision any, I think you should stay here. That ankle looks bad and transporting you isn’t really feasible.” 

Sebastian flushed. He rationally knew it wasn't a fight he would have been expected to win, but he still felt ashamed for not at least taking one of them down. But Jim had been honest at least, and so it was probably worth being honest in return. "I think it's broken. So unless you know how to set a leg I'll need to see someone..." 

Jim nodded, he would call after he finished this conversation with Sebastian. “There’s more. I have good news and bad news and news that could be either depending on how you take it.” 

Sebastian looked at him a little warily but nodded, pleased the Doctor would be here soon. The Moran's private Doctor was well used to patching Sebastian up without asking any questions, and while Sebastian didn't exactly like the man he at least trusted him. "Good news first, I need something to bolster me up through the bad news." 

“Well the good news is… less news and more me reminding you that as part of my agreement with your father you will always have access to all of his accounts and he can’t rescind that unless he wants me to go public. You are still financially secure. The bad news is I told your father we were fucking and the mixed feelings bit is that I think he kicked you out.” 

Sebastian stared at him for a moment, trying to process the information and then finally dropped his head back onto the pillows and laugh, "Fuck, well that will have made the old bastards day. Yeah, I'm not going home anytime soon, which means I have to live here..." he looked around at the tiny room, unable to stop his lip curling a little, it was worlds away from the large Moran household. "Well I hope you at least milked it for all it was worth, told him I whimper like a little bitch while I give you head. Fuck, what on earth possessed you to tell him that?" 

Jim nodded feeling a bit self-conscious of the way Sebastian was eying the place like it was just one step up from a dirty alley. Which, to be fair, wasn’t that far off. “You will stay here until the doctor says you can move around on that ankle. After that we can find you a place in town.” He snarled a bit, a wave of possessiveness crashed over him, “He was the one talking about you like you were his fucking bitch.” He scratched at his wrist with his nails distractedly. Speaking with Moran so unexpectedly had been… uncomfortable. Jim wanted to crawl out of his own skin. He tugged a ratty jumper over his tee shirt. He was feeling a bit chilly. “Hard to explain exactly why. It was a power play I guess.” 

Sebastian sighed, moodily glaring at his ankle. He had no desire at all to be stuck in one place, particularly not this place, along with the small grubbiness of it, he was also still aware of the arguement they'd had the night before, and the rather uncertain status they were in at the moment. "A power play? What, you were arguing with my dad about which one of you owns me the most?" He didn't know why but the idea of Jim pretending they were lovers was ... uncomfortable. Possibly because it was a little too near to his fantasies, or a little too far from reality. "I thought we had him over a barrel with the blackmail. Can't you tell him to suck it up and let me recover in the comfort of my own bedroom?" 

“Not exactly, he…” Jim took a second to breathe before recalling his conversation with Moran. “He thought that I’d get sick of you and when I did I’d- start beating on you or something.” Jim bit down hard on the inside of his lip, trying not to think about how close he’d come at times- that time he /had/ hit Sebastian. There was a heady darkness in him that he lost to so easily and when he came up for air it was usually to find people broken at his feet. Jim didn’t like losing control, didn’t like the idea that he could lose control on Sebastian. “Moran thought he knew how to force your obedience and I tried to make him think I have your loyalty. It creates the idea of a united front, he’s less likely to go after either one of us or try and get us to turn on each other. That’s simplifying it.” Jim scratched at the exposed skin on the back of his neck. “You’d rather live with him than have your own place?” 

Sebastian was about to shoot back a smart retort, but for some reason Jim's expression made him hesitate. He knew that there were levels to Jim he'd never really seen, complications he'd never been aware of. Part of him wanted to be allowed to see them, to beg Jim to let him see everything, all the good, all the bad and all the ugly because he, out of everyone, could take it, take it all, and still be there for Jim afterwards. But he was too proud to ask and too afraid that he wouldn't actually be able to take it, because Jim got damn scary sometimes. It was a bit too much to try and deal with all at once, and with his foot hurting so he settled for just answering the question with, "Of course I'd rather be here." And then, because that lie sounded week even to him, "Well, I'd rather be in a bigger, cleaner and nicer place, but with you there, not that wanker." 

Jim snorted quietly, “He seems to think that hanging around with me isn’t in your best interest.” Jim couldn’t help privately agreeing with him a bit. All he had to do was look at the state Sebastian was in. But hanging around with Sebastian was in /his/ best interest and he couldn’t help being selfish that way. Jim idly reached out and touched the bandage across Sebastian’s cheek, not very gently. “Don’t worry, I’ll go by yours when the doctor gets here and get some of your things. You still keep your trunk under your bed, right? Make up a list and I’ll see if I can find everything.” 

"Yeah well he thinks following his diplomatic career is in my best interests." Sebastian smirked and stuck his tongue out as Jim poked at the sore spot on his cheek. "And I dunno if either you or that bastard have noticed but I have a tendency to run headlong at things that are not in my best interests. Like pissing off large groups of scary-looking guards." Now that the incident was over the shame and terror he'd felt was beginning to turn more into bravado. After all, he'd survived. "Yeah, trunks under the bed, although grab the holdall in the wardrobe as well, that's got my workout stuff and spare cash in it. The trunks just clothes and paperwork." 

Jim nodded and smiled a bit for the first time that morning. “Alright, I’ll grab whatever I can fit.” He stared suspiciously at Sebastian, “You aren’t going to try and be a caveman about me going over to your house unaccompanied by my body guard? I almost feel like a human being and not like I’m made of glass.” He teased. 

Sebastian sighed in a mock-dramatic fashion. "Well what, you expect me to limp over there like this? I'm a fucking useless bodyguard at the moment aren't I? Just be careful, and go in through the window." He didn't feel happy at all about Jim going by himself, but he didn't want to start another arguement, and really, he was useless right now. He felt even stupider about screwing his ankle up the night before, rendering him all but helpless. "Leave me the number, I'll get the doctor out as soon as possible and get my ankle sorted." 

“Alright, tell him to write down all of his instructions about your healing. I’m not going to have you try and tell me you can do anything stupid before you get back to normal. Well…” Jim paused in mock consideration. “As close to normal as you get.” Jim patted Sebastian on the top of his head, impishly. “Try not to break anything else while I’m gone, yeah? Don’t worry, you’ll be out of here in a couple days and I’ll help you find a new place.” 

Sebastian held up two fingers in answer, then settled back down in the pillows, giving a groan. A few minutes after Jim had gone his phone beeped and he swore at it propping himself up on his elbows and managing to reach it on the floor. A text from his father. His hands tightened around the phone and he almost threw it across the room as he read it but held on, just in case there was another text, or an important message from Jim. Just in case he sent Jim a message 

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Jim heard his phone go off but just turned it to silent so it wouldn’t ring in the middle of this. He’d have to be quick and quiet, two things he was naturally good at but these kinds of things weren’t very cut and dry. The window was set quite a bit higher than he was, it was already open so Jim took a running start and launched himself up the wall like a cat and was rewarded when his fingers caught the window sill. He grunted in discomfort but pressed on. He was still a bit sore from last week and had been avoiding strenuous physical activity which was one of the reasons he hadn’t gone with Sebastian last night. Jim struggled and pulled until he got the leverage he needed and rolled in the open window. He laid on his back for a moment, breathing rapidly but with little noise. 

He got up and quietly exited the room he’d come in… trophy room he thought. Jim shook his head at the extravagance and moved down the hall to where he knew Sebastian’s room was. He hadn’t been here since—last time and the deadening silence of the house ate at him, like he was trapped in a tomb. No wonder Sebastian was so fucking crazy. Jim smiled a little and shook away the distracting thoughts. He found the right door and opened it quickly, wanting to get out of the open hallway. He turned to check if he’d been seen and shut the door with his back. Moran was sitting on the bed. Jim was able to control his facial reaction, barely. One of his hands still clenched convulsively at his side. God fucking damn it. His voice was cool when he spoke, “I’m here for Sebastian’s things.” 

Augustus Moran had headed into Sebastian's room soon after making the call, bringing a book with him which he put down when he heard the click of the door open. He looked coolly at Jim as he entered, noticing the twitch, knowing what had caused it. It was still hard to look at the boy without seeing him as he had been the evening before, with trousers rucked around his ankles, arse in the air, getting comprehensively fucked. He knew Jim felt the same and that was a bonus for him. "I thought you might be. Although if I were you I wouldn't bother unpacking too fast. He likes his comfort, and I don't expect your sordid little hovel can provide much for him. How long do you think he'll stick around once he gets fed up of playing the impoverished hero?" 

“That’s up to him to decide,” Jim said snidely. It was probably the fifth time today that he’d had to remind Moran that Sebastian made his own choices now, it was getting a little wearing. “You think I don’t know he’s a privileged little shit?” Jim smirked, “It makes him a bit soft around the edges, don’t know what he thinks he’ll ever do if he joins the military.” He’d gone for levity to spite the unsettled feeling in his gut. 

"He'll survive the military." Augustus responded. "What he won't survive is whatever ridiculous thing he has going on with you." He stood up, crossing the room quickly and taking hold of Jim's chin, not strongly, but firmly, lifting it up a little. "I do hope he's seen our video." He murmured, looking into Jim's eyes. "Might do him good to watch you getting properly fucked for once, rather than whatever silly games you two get up to. And do come back if you ever want a repeat performance." His other hand sneaked around and patted Jim on the arse. "Don't think you're taking any of his things away with you. He wants to live in squalor, he can go and live in squalor. I look forward to seeing him limping back to a warm bed and good food." he gave Jim's arse a squeeze. "Not that I'll let him back in without a good deal of effort on his part." 

Jim couldn’t help thinking that Augustus might be right about Sebastian surviving their relationship- whatever it was. Images of the few times that Sebastian had been beaten over something to do with Jim swam in his mind and he had to blink forcefully to dispel them. “Jealous?” He muttered when Moran grabbed for his chin. Jim held very still and didn’t move away from the contact. Moran wouldn’t scare him. Jim was almost shaking by the time Moran was through touching him, and he swore that this would be the last time. He snagged the hand holding his chin by the wrist, grabbed Moran’s thumb and /twisted/ until he heard it snap. Adrenaline coursed through him and the fear that he had just done a very /very/ bad thing but he’d be damned if he let Moran continue to touch him without consequences. “Keep your disgusting fucking hands off me. Or I swear I’ll break the rest of your fingers next.” His voice was hot but controlled and it was difficult not lashing out again. “Apparently I wasn’t clear enough with you when I explained this arrangement. I. own. You. You do not get to tell either of us what we can or can’t do ever again. You know the rules Moran, as long as you want to keep the world in the dark about what a sick fuck you are, you’ll follow them. If you think that a few of Sebastian’s belongings are worth being ousted, then that’s fine, I’ll make the appropriate phone calls. Until then, I’ll be collecting his things.” 

Augustus gave a strained yelp as he felt the bone in his thumb snap, his face momentarily paling as he let go of Jim and stood aside. Despite the pain, he could see that Jim was shaken, see that he'd managed to get to him, and that was all he needed. "Very well. Take what you need. And if I were you, I would be careful how often you throw that threat around. I can hire the very best of lawyers who will do their best to prove conclusively that a little slut like you could never be taken advantage of in a million years. It might work, it might not, either way it's in both of our interests not to push it." He watched as Jim tugged at the trunk, dragging it out from under the bed. "Now I know you want to let Sebastian make choices for himself like a big boy, but you might like to consider that when he does get fed up the shitty and permissive conditions you keep him in, and when he does come crawling back here for some decent food and a secure future, he'll be paying a heavy price to get back in. I can beat that boy bloody and you know as well as I that he's stubborn enough to stand it if it gets him what he wants. The more you posture and threaten now, the harder I'll make it for him when he decides that you don't have the ability or experience to get him what he wants in life." 

“That won’t be a problem, he won’t be coming back. He doesn’t need anything from you without your money.” Jim bit back and stormed off, his bravado weakening but he was unwilling to just roll over. He couldn’t say for sure that Sebastian /wouldn’t/ come back eventually. Jim would just have to make sure he gave Sebastian every reason not to leave. He made sure to scuff the hardwood stairs as he dragged the trunk’s wheels and weight down every step, feeling satisfaction at the minor damage and noise. He felt like he hadn’t breathed until he made it out the front door and into fresh air but he didn’t stop just in case Moran was still watching him and decided that his hesitation was an invitation. After he got a few blocks away he pulled out his phone and saw the text from Sebastian. Something warmed inside him despite his heavy feelings and tension. He took another breath of the fresh air and started on the long walk back to his house. He swore to any deity that was listening, if Sebastian was out of bed when he got back Jim would /tie/ him to it. 

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Jim's text came in the middle of a whole reel of them from his father, each one of which hit him like a punch in the gut, and some of which he angrily deleted, more out of terror that Jim might see them and believe them, than anything else. Eventually he did throw his phone at the wall, taking a few deep breaths and groaning as he suddenly realised that Jim would have to pick the phone up to get to him, and see five unread texts from his father, and possibly read both the read and unread versions, that were a litany of promises and threats, dizzying turns in tone from the most sympathetic to the most poisonous. Worse it was working, he was starting to feel a bit sick, and already wishing he could curl up in a comfortable bed. Using his hands to move his swollen ankle he levered himself off the bed, hobbling over to his phone and rather proud of not being sick on the way there. There were two more texts in the time it took him to cross the room and he murmured a "fuck..." at his phone 

Jim stood in the doorway watching Sebastian hobble about the room. “Why are you out of bed and why is your phone having an aneurysm?” 

Sebastian jumped as he heard Jim's voice, swore, fell over, dropped the phone, then swore again and kicked the phone at Jim, "Because my dad is alternating between threatening to take the skin off my arse and promising me all the free biscuits I can eat to walk away from you. What the hell did you do to him?" 

Jim snorted, “Biscuits? Is that really the best he can do? And he skinned your arse all the time before, I really think he’s losing his touch.” He picked up the phone and began scrolling through the messages, deleting them as he went. For a moment he thought about helping Sebastian back into bed first but he was very unhappy that he was out of bed in the first place and decided he could suffer for a few minutes. Besides he was probably high as a kite on whatever meds the doc left for him. 

Sebastian stayed on the floor, watching as Jim skimmed through his phone and feeling the sick feeling intensify as he knew what Jim was reading. Some of the threats were towards Jim, some of them were personal. Some concerned his reputation, and what future Augustus Moran feared for him, He still wasn't sure whether he'd wanted to hide them from Jim, or let him see, and he wasn't that convinced he'd made the right decision. "Did you get my stuff?" He snapped. 

Jim raised his eyebrows at some of the more creative text messages. His face went blank when he read one that concerned him and /exactly/ what Moran would do to Jim next time he got his hands on him. Jim deleted that one too and finally turned the phone off, not wanting to see any more. “You know this isn’t true, right?” He asked, waving the dead phone. “These are all just empty threats. Trying to get to you, and it’s all bullshit.” 

"Yeah?" Sebastian scowled up at him from the floor, "Was it bullshit when he talked about how much he enjoyed fucking you? When he said next time he'd beat you first, take you unlubed, make your ass really feel it." The words should have been sexy, but in the context of things his father had said to Jim they were probably the least sexy thing he'd heard. His uncertainty and frustration was manifesting as anger, "Why the hell did you have to tell him we were fucking? Just to play your little 'power games' is that it? You like the idea of being able to fuck some posh rich twat from the grammar school? Who else have you told that to?"

This was way too fucking much to deal with today and Jim was already in the numb place where everything went quiet after he’d lost his shit. It was too difficult to get upset at Sebastian, too difficult to be angry or upset or hurt at the words. His mind felt like glass with spider webbed cracking and if he breathed wrong all of it would come crashing down and he’d get cut. He laughed a little bit, “Like that’s really fucking scary, he already did all that. Sometimes I don’t think he has any imagination.” Jim tilted his head a little, staring down at Seb where he laid on the ground. “Not like you Sebastian. You have imagination, don’t you?” Jim squatted down directly in front of him, not quite between Sebastian’s sprawled legs but undeniably in his personal space. “Are you jealous?” He asked, reaching out for one of Sebastian’s curls. He watched the boy with dark fathomless eyes and a small grin. He would give Sebastian /every/ reason to stay. 

Sebastian's jaw dropped open a bit as suddenly Jim was incredibly close and touching his hair and suddenly his dad's text about turning into Jim's bitch didn't seem quite so mad. Something had crashed though, something behind Jim's eyes had gone blank and still, and Sebastian could recognise that Jim had logged out and replaced himself with something else. Something he thought wouldn't get hurt. He could recognise it, but Sebastian was damned if he knew what he was meant to do with it. This was all off the map. He tried to think of something to say, something intelligent, but all that came out was "Unh." Which didn't really do the job. He licked suddenly dry lips and managed "'M not gonna go back to him. And 'm not jealous." He had sudden uncertain and graphic images of pushing Jim down, making him scream, "Fuck are you doing." He mumbled. 

“What do you think I’m doing?” He mumbled. Somewhere shut away part of him was berating Sebastian for asking such an idiotic question. “I thought you were the one with imagination?” He said instead, leaning in until his mouth almost brushed Sebastian’s. “Are you sure you aren’t jealous, Sebastian? You don’t get hard thinking about it sometimes? You can’t think of anything you’d like to do with me? To me?” Jim released Sebastian’s hair and placed his hand on the other boy’s chest instead. 

Sebastian felt his heartbeat go haywire as Jim's lips suddenly brushed against his, his breathing speeding up and his cock jumping and twitching under his jeans. He knew this wasn't the best idea, that both him and Jim were in a shaky mood, that both of them were twitchy and antsy. They should get him back into bed, sort his ankle out and then work out what the fuck they were going to do. Instead, he reached up and grabbed Jim's hair, crashing the soft pink lips into his and kissing him hard, pressing and tongue into his mouth and biting gently on the soft lower lip. He wasn't sure what the fuck was going on, but he'd been given the chance and he was going to take it, even if it did end up breaking both of them somewhere along the line. 

It took a few seconds for Jim to realize that Sebastian was kissing him. When he recognized the action he reciprocated eagerly, his tongue exploring Sebastian’s mouth but not dominating. This was about being taken and so he would encourage Sebastian’s natural power and desire for control. Some part of him noticed the hand that gripped and pulled at his hair and recognized it as being a threatening action but Jim ignored that, groaning into Sebastian’s mouth. “Touch me.” Jim whispered. He wasn’t thinking about Sebastian’s injuries or the breaking glass or Moran and what his next move would be. Everything was blessedly quiet for the first time in a week, since Sebastian and he had their fight. He wasn’t questioning himself or trying to prove anything. Here, he just existed and there were no consequences in this place. 

It was still just about hitting him that Jim was /here/, in front of him, practically in his lap. Not talking about fucking his dad, or complaining about him getting injured, or asking impossible things but actually /here/. Sebastian gave a moan, wrapping both arms around him, holding him closer. His teeth bit harder at Jim's lower lip, hands still mussing in his hair, and suddenly the throb of pain from his ankle was a welcome ache, the pain stinging down into his pelvis and making his cock jump even harder. He tugged Jim's hair back, grinning at him as the kiss broke away. "Go on ... I've only got one ankle, you've probably got at least a halfway chance of fighting back. Let's see who ends up on top." Letting go of Jim he tugged his vest over his head, and then started fumbling desperately at the buttons on Jim's shirt. 

Jim blinked back in confusion, ripples muddying the waters in his mind. “What?” Sebastian was undressing him and Jim didn’t move to stop him or help, just watching. Sebastian wanted Jim to fight him? Jim just accepted the realization without really questioning why- he just moved into action. He placed one hand over Sebastian’s throat, gently pressing on his airways, enough for him to feel it but not too much. With his other hand he grabbed Sebastian’s hair and pulled back, guiding him towards the ground with Jim in his lap. 

Jim was still fractured behind his eyes, but Sebastian didn't care. He was getting what he wanted, and if imperfectly was the only way he could get it, then that was what he would settle for. The hand on his throat was a mockery of a choke-hold and he gave an angry sort of growl, disappointed again at Jim's lack of perfection, lack of mastery and understanding of what he wanted when Sebastian wasn't sure himself. He gave a feral sort of snarl and grabbed at Jim, one hand twisting Jim's arm back, the other ripping the rest of his shirt away. His hands ran over perfect pale beautiful skin and then he bundled Jim into his arms and flipped them both over, holding him against the floor ... and /then/ he remembered his ankle which burst into a shockwave of colourful pain leaving him collapsing on top of Jim, forehead against the floor as he hissed in pain. 

His arm /hurt/ and it wasn’t supposed to hurt here. His clothes were torn at and Jim distantly remembered that he’d liked that shirt. Then suddenly he was on his back and his head smacked painfully into the floor of his bedroom. A body pressed in on top of him and he couldn’t free himself. The shaking started in his hands and traveled slowly up his arms, poisoning the rest of his body until it was wracked with small tremors. Part of his mind was thrashing a bit but he still had a good hold on everything. Jim couldn’t understand why he was shaking. He wasn’t angry or hurt or frightened. And yet his body was still reacting as if it was, and suddenly he needed air. He wasn’t getting enough /air./ Jim gasped quietly like he’d held his breath for too long and the breathing wouldn’t regulate. It wasn’t obvious or attention grabbing in any way but James knew his body was rebelling. Jim heard a whimper and was pretty sure it wasn’t from him. “Sebastian?” 

Sebastian was shaking and he could feel Jim shaking too. It had felt right, very right, but now everything felt all wrong and sick and his head was spinning from the throbbing pain in an ankle he dimly remembered he wasn't supposed to move. He screwed his eyes closed, moving his hands off Jim and onto the wooden floor. He could feel the dust and grime against his fingers, floor-boards old and badly-maintained. "Just fuck me..." he whispered. "That's what you want. That's what should happen. After what he did to you." His eyes opened, staring at the floor, he could feel the muscles in his shoulders tensing, "I can /fucking/ take it. Do it." 

Jim just stared and watched Sebastian’s turmoil. He wished there was something he could say. “I know you can,” Jim whispered, “but I’m not going to hang our relationship around what happened with him. I’m not going to fuck you for pay back or because you can take it. I want to fuck you because you want me to and you want to be with me, outside of him.” Jim closed his eyes, tired down to his bones. “Otherwise how am I supposed to know that you really want it? It’s not like you talked about wanting me before last week, not until you heard that your dad might have me first.” Jim’s voice was neutral, not judging or codling, just laying out the facts as he saw them. 

Sebastian blinked at the floor. There were a range of conflicting emotions shifting through him right now, but somewhere near the top was a huge rush of pride and exhilaration that he'd just heard the phrase "I want to fuck you" coming out of Jim's mouth. He wanted to save that phrase, and replay it many, many times. Maybe not in that tone though, the tired, clipped and slightly broken tone that Jim was using right now. Moving his body would hurt his ankle so instead he just moved his arm, throwing it over Jim's body. "Course I want you. Didn't even know you were gay before. Then you were wittering on about wanting to fuck my dad and how the hell was I meant to bring up that you were banging the wrong Moran? Then you got /fucked/ by my dad and it was even more of a mess." He stared at the floor, giving a small laugh, "And now it's fucked up even more and I'm stuck in this /shitty/ little house with a broken ankle but I still fucking fancy your stupid crazy psycho genius little arse. Always have. Fuck my ankle is fucking killing me." 

Jim finally broke the waters of his mind, surfacing in response to Sebastian calming down and /talking/ to him. They’d screamed and hurt each other over this topic several times but they’d never actually talked about it before. Jim still felt hollow and exhausted like a rotting jack o lantern left out in the sun too long after Halloween. His mouth turned up a bit at the corners, “How did you /not know/ I was gay? Honestly?” The joke fell a bit flat and he didn’t try for flippancy again. “Everything’s fucked up, isn’t it?” Jim was trying not to replay the scene that happened in Sebastian’s house today. Those thoughts weren’t helping the shakes that still hadn’t died down. He smiled a little despite that when he remembered something. “I broke his thumb.” 

Sebastian turned his head to look at Jim, trying to see if the closed off darkness behind his eyes had broken down yet. Reaching up, he gently stroked a finger down Jim's cheek, still half expecting the other would laugh at him for it. "Yeah, course it is. Always has been. My dads fucked up, your childhoods fucked up, I still don't know what I want from you and you still aren't sure what you need from me. We fucked up our first mission and until I get stronger and you get savvier we'll screw up many more times in the future. Fuck it.” He gave a little grin at the thought of his father with a broken thumb, even if next to the constant dull throb in his ankle it wasn't that comforting. "I thought you'd broken something, his texting was slower than usual. And he was properly pissed." He patted Jim's cheek again. "Don't worry, next time I see him I'll cut his cock off, that'll give him something to think about." 

Jim was too tired to tell Sebastian to knock it off with the touching. It felt nice anyway, he couldn’t ever remember Sebastian doing anything like that before. His touch was usually abrupt, mechanical, productive or violent. It… wasn’t awful, the face touching. Jim closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying listening to Sebastian speak. He stilled when Sebastian brought up his childhood, Seb was probably fishing and Jim knew it. The Irish boy was pretty caviler about bringing up things that most people would find personal or invasive but that was one area that just- didn’t exist. He wouldn’t talk about it, period. Besides, that was all a long time ago and he was here now. It didn’t matter. “Yes, yes, everything’s fucked up. We’ll figure it out as we go, hopefully sooner rather than later though because I’m getting tired of your arse taking up my whole bed.” Jim smiled when Sebastian praised him for breaking Moran’s thumb. “He shouldn’t be pissed, he deserved it. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone so fucking presumptuous.” He turned to look at Sebastian.

Sebastian gave a tired little grin as Jim looked at him, "Yeah, yeah, guilty as charged. Now help me get back into the bed or I'll have a permanently wonky ankle and be no good to anyone." They hadn't fucked, which seemed a shame, but they didn't seem to quite hate each other as much anymore, which could only be a good thing. And he could still hear Jim saying it, 'I want to fuck you'. That was worth treasuring, even though he was now stuck in Jim's bed for the foreseeable future.

Jim stood and he was glad to note the tremors were almost entirely gone now. He started just chatting away as he helped Sebastian stand, trying to distract him from the pain in his ankle. “You know your dad’s an asshole, right? He seriously wasn’t going to let me take your stuff. I have no idea what he could want it for. Does he really think I’m going to pimp you out? That’s ridiculous. He doesn’t think you can handle slumming it.” Jim goaded, still nervous that Sebastian would call his dad to come pick him up after a couple days and then Jim would be scraping what was left of Sebastian off the floor of the cellar. Jim settled Sebastian back down on the bed with his foot elevated. He searched for a minute, and found the bottle of pain medication the doctor left. Jim read the directions before selecting the proper dosage and handing the pills over to Sebastian. “These should help.” 

"Yeah I got the impression he didn't think I could handle it." Sebastian nodded at his phone, still switched off in the corner of the room. "You told him you were fucking me, as far as he's concerned my arse is already yours and there's no reason you wouldn't sell it off." He couldn't help a shiver that was half anticipation and half fear at the thought. "He'll only keep texting. Destroy the phone and get me a new one once my ankles better." Not only would that prevent any goady little messages, it also gave Jim control over who he could call, and he knew it would help him not to chicken out and call a taxi to take him somewhere more comfortable. He swallowed the pills dry, tilting his head back and taking the dose Jim gave him, not bothering to check it. He knew he'd have to get used to a completely different lifestyle, might as well get used to it. 

Jim watched Sebastian calculatingly. “I’m not like him. I wouldn’t do that. You know that, right?” He didn’t really know what to do with himself so he just stood and hovered near the head of the bed, looking down at Sebastian. 

Sebastian hesitated a little too long before managing a "Yeah, course." And then, because this seemed to be the time for truth and he was caring less and less he decided to just say what he thought. "I hope that. I dunno what you're capable of, Jim. There's something in you, something even I don't know, all wrapped up in your childhood and your future and-" Careful, careful, "I don't know what you might do. What you're capable of. But fuck I want to come along for the ride." 

Jim nodded, feeling that was fair and it was honestly the way he felt. “You aren’t my enemy Sebastian. You don’t have to worry as long as you’re on my side, understand? I won’t let anyone fuck with that, not even me.” He’d meant to say “fuck with you” but that sounded a little too honest. And Sebastian would probably just see it as a slight against his manhood or something. Jim did know that the other boy could defend himself, he was a good fighter. He just needed someone who would know where to point him. And Sebastian couldn’t do that unless he trusted Jim, even just a little. He still smiled though, pleased that after—everything Sebastian wasn’t planning on leaving anytime soon. 

About a week ago, Sebastian would have bridled at the idea that he needed any kind of protection but now, shivering and uncertain and lying on a bed with a broken ankle and no home to get too he wasn't about to question it. "Your side." He gave a wonky grin. He wasn't sure what he was meant to do now, his father had cut him off and life was turning out very different to what he'd thought. But Jim seemed a good enough person to follow. This was it, he decided, if he was going to be loyal to anyone, it would be Jim, because there was no other way to be with Jim; to weather the storms and craziness and orders of grievous bodily harm. He felt he should do something symbolic and meaningful but couldn't think of anything. "Yeah, sounds good to me. I'm still going to manage the odd fuck-up, hell I'm still going to go off like a loose canon probably, at least if I'm high or bored. But never doubt I won't be loyal. Now piss off and let my leg heal." 

Jim couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so pleased. The shakes finally stopped and he didn’t feel quite so empty anymore. Sebastian trusted him and Jim would have to meet that bar. “Fuck off, it’s my bed and I’m going to have a lie down.” Jim climbed over Sebastian and settled around and on top of him due to the small size of the bed. “You can wank off after I fall asleep.” That was—an unnecessary thing to say. He was used to saying things that were mildly shocking or rude- it was Sebastian, it was meant to be a joke. But after their little tumble on the floor it didn’t really sound like a joke. 

Sebastian gave a groan as Jim climbed over him, not least because what with being so tense and still slightly horny it wasn't making it any easier to stay still in bed when he wanted to furiously jerk off. He gave Jim a poke as he settled into place. "Damn straight I'll wank off, you couldn't be bothered to help I suppose? Seeing as your hand is like right there?" He wasn't sure whether he was joking or not, but he was no longer bothered about maintaining their fragile truce. Whatever happened now: sex or no sex, hurt or no hurt, he was with Jim. 

Jim lifted his head from where he’d buried it in Sebastian’s side and smirked at him. He reached out and lightly ran the heel of his palm over Sebastian’s crotch a few times, more tease than anything. “I don’t know. I am pretty tired. And it’s your leg that’s busted, I don’t see why you can’t do this yourself.” He was teasing Sebastian because he knew it drove him up the wall. Jim had always had a thing about poking sleeping tigers. In reality he /was/ very tired but he was—present now and he felt like he should make today up to Sebastian somehow. Besides, he was intensely curious to see what Sebastian looked like when he came. That thought had Jim grinning like a mad cat. He continued his ministrations. “I suppose it’s up to you.” 

Seb wasn't sure what he'd expected, but Jim's hand running over his crotch was just teasing and mad after a whole day of madness. He gave Jim a confused and desperate look before collapsing down on the sheets. "Fuuuuck, you little shit. I don't know. Yes, I do know. Give me a hand job." 

Jim chuckled a little at the display, “You really are desperate for it, aren’t you?” The comment was teasing, he wasn’t ridiculing Sebastian’s desire. “You can’t even say please?” Jim tisked quietly and popped the button on Sebastian’s jeans and unzipping them slowly. “You probably like it fast and hot, right?” This was just like chatting up those other straight boys he’d been with, except this was Sebastian and that made it much more amusing, the act was obvious for what it was instead of something he was trying to pass off as reality because Sebastian knew /him/ and if he wanted to act like a little minx then it was okay because Sebastian knew him, better than anyone probably. 

He had Sebastian help him get his trousers down. Jim studied Sebastian’s cock thoughtfully, he’d seen it before- obviously. He thought back on the last time he’d seen Sebastian this erect, it had been last week when he’d held Jim down and rutted against him while Jim kicked and shrieked. He bit the inside of his lip, taking the focus off the memory- it was making his hands shake. Shit! Why couldn’t he do this without all of the bullshit, he was fine a minute ago. Jim took a deep breath for focus and realized that mentally he was fine. This situation was very different- Jim was in control and Sebastian wasn’t furious and ready to hurt someone. He looked… insecure now, almost hesitant. Jim wasn’t afraid of him, and he wanted to do this. The trembling died down as he relaxed and tentatively wrapped a hand around Sebastian’s cock. 

Sebastian gave a whine, arching against Jim's hand as he was teased, "Unh ... f-fine ... /please/..." it came out as sarcastically as he could make it, and he rather like the desperate little edge. Giving control away to Jim seemed like the biggest gesture he could make right now. He noticed the pause, noticed Jim shaking and managed to bite back a disappointed groan. Of course Jim would be feeling odd - having just spoken to his father, and probably remembering the time they'd spent together. And when the touch came it was uncertain and soft, and worlds away from the teasing grins and even hard broken anger he'd seen just a few minutes before. He felt his cock wilt slightly under the touch and bit his split lip, trying desperately to keep in the zone. "Unh ... s-sorry. 'S my ankle." He lied, starting to realise just how completely fucked up the two of them really are. Here he was, finally getting what he'd coveted for so long and he couldn't even maintain his own damn hard-on.

Jim watched Sebastian carefully, “do you want me to stop?” He gave an experimental tug, then continued more confidentially. He was pretty sure that Sebastian wanted this from all of their talking earlier. He’d actually said /please./ So if he was having problems they were probably physical. Jim might be able to work with those. 

Sebastian shook his head, quickly and stubbornly. The last thing he wanted was for Jim to stop. Closing his eyes he bit his lip hard, trying to get himself back in the mood. Biting against his split lip brought back the night before, the darkness and the taunts. The moment when Jim had been standing above him, sneering and disapproving, dabbing the antiseptic onto stinging skin, bruises like badges from following Jim's orders. He gave a quiet little groan and his cock twitched again. 

Jim smiled a bit, falling back into the teasing. “I shouldn’t have worried, you’re terribly hearty after all.” Jim’s movements picked up and he watched Sebastian’s face for signs on what he liked or didn’t like. “Is there a particular reason you’re biting your lip? My ma isn’t home, you can make however much noise you want.” He paused, falling into the coy teasing. “I want to hear you.” 

Jim' hand was moving again, and Sebastian was growing and filling into it. He propped himself up on his elbows and looked down, the sight of Jim's pale hand stroking away was enough to keep him hard, "I'm not trying to keep quiet, I'm trying too, fuck..." he gave a quiet groan, he'd had a few bored hand-jobs before, but this was something wildly different, "An don't ... don't worry. Fuck I want this." He did want it, but convincing his cock and convincing Jim weren't two things he'd expected to have to do. 

“What are you trying to do darling?” Jim was curious now about Sebastian’s habit. He thought that the lip biting had been unconscious but if it was /intentional/ that was more interesting. Jim continued moving his hand at a brisk pace and thought it could be a fun little game asking Sebastian questions and making him respond and think through his arousal could be a nice little torture. 

Sebastian gave a growl at him, not wanting to admit that he had trouble getting up, particularly not /why/ he'd had trouble getting up. Jim had only just stopped shaking, and reminding him about it might lead to it all crumbling down again. "Because you're being a sodding little tease." He growled in response, "Feels like a gust of wind over my cock, not a hand. Try and give me something to at least feel would you?" 

Jim could sense that Sebastian was lying but he couldn’t immediately see the true answer in his face. He smiled when he considered the other boy’s last statement. “You like pain, don’t you Sebastian?” He leaned over until his face was very close to Sebastian’s cock and he ran the tip of his nose up Sebastian’s hip bone. Jim suddenly bit down around the skin, hard. 

For a few moments he didn't quite understand and grumbled back, "Oh yeah, I'm loving sitting here with my ankle in agony it's fucking wonderful." And then Jim's hot breath was against his hip and /then/ there was a burst of sharp pain around his hip bone and dark eyes staring up at him. Sebastian gave a horse yelp, his cock jumping to full hardness in Jim's hands and he gave a gasp of "Fuck, you little /shit/."

Jim laughed outright, not moving his face from Sebastian’s hip. He wrapped his mouth around the bite mark and sucked hard, planning on leaving a sizeable hickey over the already sensitive and painful bite. He was testing Sebastian’s limits and while he knew that Sebastian could take a lot of pain and enjoy a lot of pain (Ms. Adler’s riding crop came to mind, and wasn’t that train of thought full of possibilities…) not all pain was equal and Jim wouldn’t presume that just because Seb could stand to have the tar beaten out of him on a regular basis didn’t mean he would enjoy everything in the bedroom. Still, he thought this might be a good place to start. His hand squeezed Sebastian’s cock tightly while he sucked on Sebastian’s over sensitized hip bone. 

The issue of keeping himself hard had vanished completely, replaced rather ironically with the sudden need to stop himself cumming at once like a sloppy teenager. Sebastian gave a whine, his hip arching up towards Jim's mouth while he grabbed at Jim's shoulders, the sensations threatening to overwhelm him. With Irene it had been similar, except cool, measured, controlled. She'd been out to explore what sexual pain could do, and had been interested in the results. With Jim it was a wild ride, if Jim was in control, he certainly wasn't about to extend any of that to Sebastian.

Jim watched Sebastian’s face, completely fascinated. His head was thrown back and his mouth was open and wet from where he’d licked at his mouth. Sebastian’s eyes were hugely dilated from the combination of arousal and his medication. Jim couldn’t see Sebastian’s face very well from this vantage point so he abandoned it in favor of looking down at Sebastian from where he was sitting. “You liked that Sebastian?” Jim already knew he did but it would be amusing to hear him say it anyway. Jim rubbed his thumb along the slit of Sebastian’s cock, pulling back the stimulation until Sebastian answered his question. 

"I-I ... fuck yes." Sebastian gasped, finding it a bit hard to concentrate on mundane things like the English language while Jim was teasing and stroking at his cock. He was leaking pre-cum now, and not wanting to look at Jim, knowing that a single glance at the dark knowing eyes would probably be enough to tip him over. His hand reached up to rub experimentally at his hip, "Did you leave a mark? Bet you left a fucking mark. Was that was all the fuss was about yesterday? You were just pissed it was those bastards marking me up instead of you?" 

“A hickey is hardly the same thing as a broken ankle and bruised rips you moron. A hickey doesn’t cause shortness of breath and two weeks of bed rest.” Jim smiled his point getting across. He looked down at Sebastian’s cock and let it go before he ran one sharp finger nail down the shaft. He was careful enough that he wouldn’t do any damage but enough that it should hurt and sting such a sensitive place. 

"A-ahhh f-fucker!" Sebastian managed, more a cry of surprise than pain, as his cock throbbed and stung, tugging himself up to balance on his elbows he stared down at Jim, surprise, fascination and deep lust, etched on his face. "Oh fuck ... how long have you been wanting to do this for? God don't stop..." 

Jim smirked across from Sebastian, he would go at his own pace and the other boy could deal with it. Jim wrapped his hand around Seb’s erection but used his nails again, more pressure this time.

The stinging pain was at least holding him back from the very edge, while the heat from it still shot through him and he bared his teeth at Jim in a feral grin, "Mmmm ... bet you love this ... holding your pet soldier by the cock. A-ahh..." he gave a gasp, keeping himself propped up now, wanting to see Jim's eyes, Jim's face, and the strange light in jim's eyes that he was sure mirrored the deep desire and lust in his own. 

Jim gave Sebastian’s cock a squeeze and held it, a silent reprimand for impertinence. If Sebastian wanted to be in control, that was fine but he could do it on his own time, not when Jim already had Sebastian’s metaphorical balls in a vice grip. “I think a leash would be far more useful.” He said instead. Jim squeezed harder, toward the point of where he thought Sebastian’s limit might be. “Are you ready to come?” 

The thought of what Jim could do with a leash made him moan again, squirming on the bed as the grip tightened beyond the comfortable. It was still hot as fuck, but now the grip was painful and he whined, "A-ahh ... y-yes..." More than ready, even it had been the shortest hand-job in history, "Fucking let me cum." 

Jim smiled, pleased, as he watched Sebastian’s face carefully through hooded eyes. “Then come.” He released his restraint on Sebastian’s cock and watched. 

Sebastian practically exploded, cumming hard and flushing a little reflecting that he'd managed it with a few brief words and a single hickey. Still, emotions had been running high all afternoon, and he still felt he was owed a release for the taunts and jibes of the bodyguards. He collapsed back onto the bed, putting a hand over his eyes, "Alright. Laugh now if you want. That was - that was a hell of a thing."

Jim smiled lazily as he reached for a towel that was hanging off the foot of his bed to clean them up with. “I wouldn’t laugh at you. Well, unless you had been topping, that would be fucking hysterical but also I think I’d kill you.” 

Sebastian had a sudden flashback to the last time he'd been rutting up against Jim and gave a slight shiver, considering he'd probably got off lightly for not going further with the smaller teen. "Is that so hilarious?" He grinned, relieved that Jim wasn't taunting him for cumming so quickly, "You just know you want a big hot soldier stretching that tight little bum." Hiding in crudity was the best way to hide his slight disappointment, a disappointment that didn't rank anywhere nearly as highly compared with the thudding excitment that Jim could make him orgasm like no-one else. "Am I allowed to sleep /now/? The Doctor said rest, this is not rest." 

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Jim said in exasperation, “You were the one who insisted you had to get off right this fucking second or your testicles would be permanently damaged. Go to sleep you twat, I can’t deal with you anymore.” The words were harsh but Jim was teasing and feeling a little claustrophobic. 

Sebastian grinned at him, flipped him off, then adjusted the pillows around his foot and lay back. "Yeah, yeah. Sometimes a guy needs to get off." Lying back he felt almost relaxed for the first time in a while. He'd been thrown out of the house, and suddenly everything was up in the air. And in the middle of that he'd decided to attach himself to Jim, and now had no idea how, or where, they were going to land. With no idea what the future held there was currently nothing to worry about, or maybe it was just the emptiness and clarity of brain that came from an orgasm. Either way, that and the pain medication helped him to drift off. 

Jim was not able to fall asleep so easily. He laid back and watched Sebastian for over an hour, his brain reviewing and sorting through the day’s activities. Jim hadn’t had an episode like that one on the floor in a long time. There’d been too much stress and—anyway he knew to avoid things like that. That episode had been all about passivity and protection but it could have just as easily turned aggressive and violent. Jim felt like he had a tentative grip on Moran for now, but he didn’t know for how long and where the next attack would come from. Sebastian was actually—a lot less complicated now and Jim thought that he’d like the change. The bond between them was stronger now and Jim thought that he could start to relax around the other boy again. A low level anxiety sat heavy in his stomach but Sebastian’s warm body was relaxing and Jim was eventually able to fall into a light sleep.


	3. Jealousy

The crutches had been unwieldy and it had taken Sebastian a long time to get used to them. After a few days practice he could at least walk straight, and he was now able to experiment with knocking other people over with them. Going back to school had been a tough decision, involving plenty of sniping and argueing between him and Jim, but finally it was decided that getting arrested for truancy would help no one. He hadn't even bothered to make up an excuse as to why he was returning with a broken leg, "got it a fight" seemed to cover it, and meant he could get away with arriving late for most lessons. 

Jim had been up a tree since early this morning. There was a big oak growing right in front of Sebastian’s school and it’d seemed like too good an opportunity to waste. Plus he thought that he’d probably get kicked off the property if he didn’t have Sebastian there to escort him. His ma had passed out last night after a drinking binge and he’d ended up locked out of his house. He’d been more careful about locking the windows out of what he was calling “Moran paranoia” and it had backfired. He’d ended up roughing it the night before and his clothes showed it. He’d had nothing to do so this morning he came over to Sebastian’s school very early, by now his arse felt frozen to the tree. He was in a tan jumper and his jeans were threadbare. The less said about his trainers, the better. Finally he saw Sebastian hobbling towards the entrance and Jim fished a few rocks he’d gathered earlier from out of his pocket. The first one hit Sebastian in the arm, “Seb.” He called out quietly, not wanting to draw too much attention to himself. The second on hit Sebastian in the head. “Seb!” He called louder. 

Sebastian swore as the rock came flying out, stumbling on the crutches and glancing behind him suspiciously, at the next shot he glared up into the tree, hobbling over and poking Jim with the end of his crutches, "What the fuck are you doing sitting up a tree throwing rocks at me, and where were you last night? Are you, are you in the same clothes?" He looked at Jim suspiciously, quickly checking he hadn't been hurt or injured somehow, but it looked like he'd just decided to spend the night out for reasons unknown. "Stop throwing stones at my head. When I get off these crutches I'll seriously slap you one." It wasn't said seriously, or even meant, and he was pretty sure Jim knew that. 

Jim stuck out his tongue childishly and half climbed half fell out of the tree. His arse really was numb. “I thought I’d come round today and you could give me the tour! Your school won’t mind you having a shadow today, right? I’ll be perfectly polite.” Jim smiled up innocently, all big eyes and teeth. 

"I think 'bring a short Irish twat to school'-day is on Thursdays" Seb grumbled back, watching him fall out the tree, but not complaining as Jim followed him, not failing to notice that none of his questions had been answered. "What do you want in there anyway? It's all posh twats with more money than sense, you've got one of those in your rented uptown house, and he's got a leg in a cast so he won't run away while you practice your evil intents on him." he grinned. Since the first hand-job, there had been plenty more, and Sebastian was finding all sorts of new pleasures. 

Seb’s oh so subtle comment had Jim rolling his eyes. “You answered your own question- this place is all posh twats with more money than sense.” Jim had been running dangerously low on funds with his mother drinking more. It wasn’t a lot but it was enough that their small income was getting stretched further than it should feasibly be able to go. He’d like to be able to get groceries every now and again, thank you very fucking much. He was getting very tired of peanut-butter sandwiches.

Sebastian gave a shrug. Previously, he would have been able to get money for Jim but now while his father couldn’t do anything about the agreed stipend and the money Sebastian had hidden, he wasn't going to offer any more and rent and food took more money than he'd imagined. Added to which Sebastian wasn't exactly used to budgeting, and with his leg in plaster taxi-cabs were becoming a major drain on finances. "Alright fine. Give it a few more weeks and I can hold them upside-down and shake them for spare change. Until then don't do anything dangerous, alright?" 

Jim laughed at the mental image, “No no, I’m not going to steal anything. Where does that get me in the long run? I’m sure there’s services that students here would be willing to pay for.” Jim smiled sharply, thinking of all the exciting new challenges he could be getting. Or maybe it would be the same old boring stuff as always. 

Seb's smile vanished and he looked at Jim suspiciously, "Services? What sort of ... services are you talking about." His mind couldn't help but flash vividly to the hand-jobs he'd been getting, which were now usually complete with sharp nails, biting teeth, fingers pressing and pinching at fading bruises. Jim couldn't mean that, Seb was almost sure of it. Almost. 

Jim lost his smile and grit his teeth. This had to be the second or third time that Sebastian had thrown that confession in his face. He wanted to snap back at the other boy but it was a fair question, even if it pissed Jim off to no end. “I’d really appreciate it if you’d kindly forget I ever told you about that. My ma had pneumonia, people can /die/ from that if there are complications. I was fifteen and in a bad situation, this isn’t the same thing at all.” Jim took a deep breath a calmed his temper, “There’s no way you could know that though so I’ll let this slide. I’m not a whore, I’m not a /‘wasted rent boy’/” Jim sneered the words that Sebastian had thrown at him not that long ago. “So if you could fuck off with your assumptions and stop throwing it in my face at every feasible opportunity that would be really super.” 

Sebastian scowled, pretty sure that if it wasn't for the crutches he would have whapped Jim round the back of the head, which would not have gone well at all. "Alright, alright, it was worth asking." He grumbled, knowing he was being unfair. There was a gate guard at the school, but he simply saw Sebastian, nodded, and went back to doing the crossword. "Well, you're in, bloody difficult that was. Do you need me to get you anything else? Point you in the direction of anyone particularly rich and stupid? Warn you away from the Holmes boys? Who are both complete cocks?" 

Jim’s interest was piqued, “are they especially stupid and rich?” 

"No, they're mad, clever and rich. The younger one is complete bully material, thin, scrawny, acts like an arse, but the older one is involved in government somewhere." Sebastian rather wished he hadn't bought it up, as Jim was looking excited at the prospect of a challenge. "The day after I hung the younger Holmes out a window just for fun a black car drove up outside our house and two men carrying seriously exciting weaponary told me not to. Then dad knocked that message home. I think we've got enough trouble from legal politicians at the moment." 

Jim nodded, his thoughts already whirling. He wasn’t sure what he wanted from Holmes but Sebastian said they were smart in the same tone of voice that he said Jim was smart. That was intriguing. Maybe he wouldn’t hit them up for money but there were other things that posh brats with too much brains and not enough to do were good for. “Interesting. What’d you hang him out the window for?” 

Sebastian scowled, "He was being a prat. Saying irritating things about me, and my father." He sighed, stopping outside the classroom door and looking at Jim. There was no point lying, "Most annoying thing was all the damn things he said were true, and then he called me a poofter so I knocked him around a bit then hung him outside the chemistry windows on the hook they use for the emergency fire hydrant. It didn't /hurt/ him, he's that long his fingers practically touched the ground. You'd think if he was so clever he'd know what a bad idea is to run his mouth off.”

Jim laughed outright, “You know he was flirting with you? You hung the poor bloke out a window because he liked you!” Jim thought it was hysterically funny that Sebastian could be so thick. “Is he pretty? All lithe and willowy? Bet he’s got long hair? You’ve got quite the fascination with his mouth.” Jim was mostly teasing but he wouldn’t have been upset if Sebastian found the boy attractive. 

"Flirting?" Sebastian looked slightly taken aback, giving a grin as he tried to work it out, "Nah, Holmes is attracted to plants or something, I swear. He's not interested in anyone. And course he's not /pretty/ he's a bloke. Nice eyelashes for a bloke though." He smirked and gave Jim a poke, looking up and rearranging his face into something more scholarly as a teacher walked by and frowned at them, "Yeah, long hair, but only cuz he won't cut it. Scrawny and awkward more like. And he's not fascinating at all, you know I don't go for the nerdy pretty ones I go for the short evil ones. Anyway, I better go to classes. Stay out of trouble. /Don't/ flirt with the Homes's. Either of them."

“I can’t come to class with you?” Jim’s eyes were big but he smiled. 

Sebastian shrugged, "You can try, but the teacher will notice, and it's boring as fuck." Swinging the door open with his crutch he headed inside, part of him hoping Jim /would/ follow him in so he could keep an eye on him and stop him doing anything stupid. 

Jim shook his head, "That's alright, I'll just go exploring. Don't worry I won’t get caught." Jim smiled and turned his back. "Come find me at lunch." He called after him. 

"Come find you - you're a short sneaky Irishman, I'm a six foot tall blond tanned bloke with a pair of crutches. You find me." Sebastian grumbled after him, before heading into class. He had his new phone on him, but didn't use it. He knew how much trouble Jim could probably manage to get into, but the lack of fire sirens and police-cars reassured him slightly. Slightly. 

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Jim wandered about, looking for trouble and things that he could get into. The bells had rung a few times, Jim was pretty sure lunch would be happening soon. He didn’t know if the whole school would be out on lunch or if they rotated. He shrugged and decided that if he was bored he would find Sebastian later. Jim was walking around outside when something caught his attention. Smoke. He smelled smoke. Jim looked about and discovered the source of the smell was a boy smoking behind some hedges. He /looked/ high born, high cheek bones and bright eyes. He was obviously still growing into himself but he would be devastating when all was said and done. Jim peeked his head through the bushes. “’Lo.” He said quietly, trying not to startle the other boy where he sat. 

Sherlock looked up at the small boy who had suddenly appeared. He was short and impossibly small… Sherlock thought he looked like he was about twelve but Sherlock knew that the kid was probably about fifteen or sixteen. He didn’t belong here. It was the “loudest” thing that Sherlock could deduce about the stranger, everything from his mused hair to his sallow and undernourished skin to his torn and dirty jumper to the trainers with muddy untied laces, all of it screamed of difference at a school where people pay more for admission every year than some people do for a house. The stranger’s curiosity was what caught Sherlock’s attention next, and his eyes. They were so dark that he didn’t appear to have an iris. “Hello.” He replied cautiously. Despite his best efforts Sherlock was curious and wanted to know how the boy had managed to sneak onto campus. “What are you doing here?”

Jim shrugged and sat himself down next to the other boy. “Exploring, but it’s boring. Too much structure.” 

Sherlock took a drag of his cigarette, “I don’t know what you thought you’d find. Everything in this place is unspeakably dull.”

“I don’t know,” Jim said coyly. “I might have found something interesting after all. Sometimes persistence is rewarded.” 

Sherlock took a peek at the stranger. He analyzed the way the boy was looking at him and concluded that he was being flirted with. “Sherlock.” He introduced himself. 

“Jim Moriarty, hi~.” He dragged out the last word a little a smile tilting at his mouth. “You like what you see?” That smirk turned into a leer. He knew that Sherlock was analyzing him not checking him out but Jim thought he might unbalance him. 

Sherlock snorted and brought his cigarette to his mouth. “You aren’t exactly a first class example of the human male form.” 

Jim laughed outright at Sherlock’s bluntness, enjoying his honesty. “No you’re right, I’m not. Problem?”

Sherlock relaxed a bit and smiled, “No. No it’s not.” 

Jim relaxed, feeling like they had come to some kind of agreement. “Can I bother you for a smoke?” Sherlock obliged, and lit Jim’s cigarette for him. Not daring to break eye contact while he was so close to Jim’s personal space. They sat in companionable silence until Jim finished his cigarette and put it out in the dirt. “Let’s get this started, shall we?” 

Sherlock watched the other boy apprehensively as he leaned over and latched his lips onto his own. He startled even though he knew what was happening, it had been a while since he’d done something like this. As a result his mouth moved more hesitatingly than Jim’s own. 

Jim laughed against Sherlock’s mouth, “What? Are you a virgin?” 

Sherlock’s scowled lightly, “I am not.” 

“I know darling, I’m just teasing. Now shut up and kiss me.” Jim knew he had to be a bit more gentle with this one, a little more considerate. He had a backbone, Jim couldn’t just push him down in the dirt and have his way with him. But he wasn’t Sebastian, he couldn’t push him too hard either. But Sherlock was curious and willing and Jim could work with that as long as he didn’t get ahead of himself. 

Sherlock moaned a bit into Jim’s mouth. The other boy was talented with his tongue and Sherlock couldn’t hide his growing interest. He wasn’t sure if he was making a mistake or not but this was so typical. Having a romp in the bushes while skipping school was about as cliché as it got but Sherlock couldn’t bring himself to regret it. 

After a while Jim crawled on top of Sherlock slowly, projecting his movements so that Sherlock could push him off or tell him to wait if he wanted to. Jim ended up straddling Sherlock’s lap and the taller boy lay on the ground, leaves sticking in his curls. He looked thoroughly debauched, his tie had been abandoned somewhere along the line, half of his buttons were undone and Jim had left several small hickeys along the boy’s neck and chest. His mouth was slightly swollen and a flush painted his high cheeks. Jim thought he was beautiful. Jim could already imagine the boy’s head thrown back in ecstasy, imagined him begging underneath Jim. Imagined the boy’s delicate hands on his body. 

“Do you want me to suck you off?” Jim heard a startled noise from behind him and turned to look and found Sebastian. “Kind of busy here love.” He stared expectantly, waiting for Sebastian to gather his jaw off the floor and leave. 

Jim hadn't turned up at lunch time, so Sebastian had sworn, picked up his crutches, and gone to look for the annoying little twat. Jim didn't seem to be anywhere in the school, and when he'd seen the smoke curling up from behind the hedges he rolled his eyes, limping up and ready to complain at Jim for being so obvious, so silly, and for making Seb come to him. He hadn't expected what he'd found - Sherlock Holmes laid out like dessert on a plate, hair mussed, bitten and blushing, with Jim sat on top of him offering a blow job. And he certainly wasn't expecting what happened next, rather than jumping, or standing aside, or claiming it was a mistake, Jim was calmly telling him to fuck off and leave them to it. His fists clenched around the crutches and he tried to keep his voice vaguely even as he spat out, "What the /fuck/ is going on?" It was clearly obvious but part of him was still hoping that there was an explanation, that this was a rehearsal, or a sting, or some sort of crafty trick to piss off Sherlock's brother. 

Sherlock glared up at Moran, he didn’t think it was very effective from his position on the ground. “Are you really that incredibly stupid? I don’t see what business it is of yours, Moran.” 

"If you don't see what the hell it is to do with me then you're clearly both a lot stupider than you think." Sebastian growled bitterly, glaring down at both of them and feeling his insides drop away unpleasantly. Sherlock was smart, he had to grudgingly admit that, and maybe that was something Jim wanted that he could never fullfill. "How much are you paying him? Or didn't you know he was a slut?" He snapped at Sherlock, not particularly wanting to look Jim in the eyes, "It better be enough to cover the rent at least, otherwise he can damn well find a richer dick to jump on." 

Jim tumbled off of Sherlock in shock, his mouth dropped open like maybe then he’d be able to get air back into his lungs. He couldn’t look at Sebastian’s face because he knew that with his memory he’d never forget it and he didn’t want to always remember the expression of disgust he surely wore. As it was he’d be hearing those words for a long time. They echoed in his head and reverberated like a room full of mirrors and they distorted and the bass reverberated until his body shook with it. 

Sherlock stood angrily, doing up his shirt buttons and shaking the leaves out of his hair. “What the fuck is your problem? I’m not paying him anything, I have no idea what you’re talking about. You know each other?” Sherlock could see that, obviously. He knew that the two of them were involved, sexually most likely, or had been. Somehow he’d gotten caught up in the middle of this. 

"Well I thought we fucking knew each other!" Sebastian growled back, heart hammering uncomfortably hard. He'd thought he was good enough for Jim, that Jim wanted him, and here he was being thrown aside for the first person with a decent brain. The crutches were a hindrance, but they didn't stop him from stepping forward and backhanding Sherlock hard across the face, knocking him over again, "You come near him again and I'll beat you so bad your brother will need your fucking /dental/ records to identify you and even then he'll bloody struggle." He all but roared in Sherlock's face, "And you-" he rounded on Jim and hesitated, seeing Jim staring at the floor all but hyperventilating. Some of the anger dropped away into uncertainty and he frowned, "Jim - fuck - did he ... what did he do?" 

Sherlock kicked Sebastian’s good leg out and now they were all on the ground together. He was absolutely furious and couldn’t believe Moran had the audacity to strike him. “I didn’t do a fucking thing. He was absolutely /fine/ until /you/ showed up- screaming your fool head off.” Sherlock watched the small boy—Jim nervously.  
Sebastian snarled and slapped Sherlock again to try and shut him up, feeling even more sick as he realised that Jim wasn't just acting or playing, but seriously hurt. Gently he gave Jim's cheek a little open-handed tap, "Jim? C'mon you silly little shit. What the hell are you playing at? Did I just fuck up some important plan?" 

Jim turned away from Sebastian’s hand, not quite flinching. “Don’t fucking touch me.” He looked down at Sebastian’s outstretched hand blankly. His voice was too quiet but it was calm. “I swear to god Sebastian, if you touch me right now I will break every one of your fucking fingers.” 

Sebastian drew his hand back like it had been burnt, stared at Jim for a while and then just said quietly, "I'll see you at home then. If you want to come." Pulling himself up on the crutches, he grabbed Sherlock by the front of the shirt and dragged him back through the bushes, ignoring all protests. Once they were out he slammed him against the nearest wall, feeling a shock of pleasure as is head bounced back against it, "Alright you fucking freak, start talking. What did you do to him? What the hell happened?" 

Sherlock sneered at the bully and thought about kicking his legs out again, that had felt amazing. “I didn’t do anything you moron. I told you, he was fine before you barged in. Obviously you upset him, so why don’t you stop being a complete pillock for five fucking seconds and fix it?” Sherlock adopted a patronizing look, “Or is shouting and hitting things all you know how to do? No wonder he’s bored of you.” Sherlock spat, not entirely believing those last words to be true. But words were his weapon of choice and /Sebastian/ obviously thought it might be true. 

Sebastian snarled at him, not sure whether he wanted to believe it. But Sherlock knew things, and he seemed to have got this one right. Jim was fed up of him, Jim had asked him to leave, and now Jim was pissed at him and quite possibly broken. Reaching forward with a snarl he pulled the rest of Sherlock's shirt away, then dragged him back through the bushes, throwing him back down in front of Jim, who hadn't moved. "You want him? Fine - if he's what you want who the fuck am I to stop you. I fucking tried didn't I? Tried to be good enough. If you'd prefer to hang around with this fucking geek then do it." The thought of his father waiting at home loomed rather unpleasantly and he abruptly turned away, hoping he wouldn't do something stupid like cry. "I fucking need a drink." he muttered, hobbling out through the front gates and waving at a taxi, ignoring the slightly confused look of the gate guard. 

Jim took a breath and stood quietly, dusting off the legs of his dirty jeans as if it would help somehow. He looked down at Sherlock impassively. The boy was in the dirt again and his face was in rough shape. “I’m very sorry about that,” he said formally. His voice was still too quiet but it wasn’t as cold. “He’s usually not quite that bad.” Jim looked toward where Sebastian was just disappearing around the corner of a building. “I should go, he’ll probably do something stupid.” 

Sherlock accepted a hand up, smirking a bit. “That’s quite the feral dog you’ve got on your hands. It would be a shame if anyone put him down.” Sherlock meant it more as a warning than a threat. 

Jim looked at Sherlock with a blank expression. “I’ll be sure to keep him on a tighter leash.” He turned and jogged after Sebastian, he caught up to him just as he reached the gate. Normally he wouldn’t have been able to but Sebastian was slower on crutches. Jim slid into the cab wordlessly and gave the driver Sebastian’s new address. 

Sebastian glance sideways as Jim slid into the cab. He gave the driver a wordless nod as the man looked at him for confirmation of the new address, rather than the address of a club that Sebastian had given him when he'd flagged him down. Despite the fact that he was still fairly sure he'd done nothing wrong, compared with Jim who'd been about to suck off another man, he felt himself squirming awkwardly as they drove along in silence, unable to shake the feeling that he'd done something completely unforgivable and was about to get a bollocking for it. It wasn't until they were approaching the house that he felt able to snap out, "Fuck were you playing at?" And even then it came out in wobbly bravado rather than the anger he'd hoped. 

“I’m a slut, what were you expecting?” The line was delivered emotionlessly and he stared ahead at the road. Jim sat on his side of the cab with his hands fisted in his jeans pockets. 

Sebastian gave him a sideways glance. If Jim had been angry, he knew he would have embraced it, shouted back, given it as good as he could get. Anger he understood. This cold emptiness he couldn't, and it was freaking him out. "You came into the school saying you wanted money and two hours later I catch you about to suck a cock, what was I meant to think." He said quietly. 

“No you’re absolutely right.” He said, still speaking mildly. “I’m a whore it was a logical conclusion to come to. What I don’t understand though, is why you thought it was any of your business.” 

"Well because..." the immediate answer was 'because you should be sucking my cock' but even in his current state Sebastian was smart enough to realise that would be a piss-poor response. He kept silent as the taxi stopped, levered himself out of the back and paid, and then as they were walking towards the house he answered, "Just thought you might have had a bit of a thing for me. You know. The way we've been having sex and living together recently. Should've known I was just a dumb fist for you to swing and keep in line with the odd hand-job." 

“You’re right, I do have a bit of a thing for you. So what?” He asked casually. “What do you think that means? That you have the right to bully me, hurt me, control me?” His voice was still soft despite his words, Jim wasn’t sure when he’d be able to shake out of this funk. Right now he had a death grip on his emotions because he knew if he lost it that the anxiety swirling in his gut would turn into rage and he didn’t know what kind of shape he’d find Sebastian in when the boy was already looking for an excuse to be punished and he had a bum leg. “You aren’t a dumb fist so stop fucking acting like it.”

Somewhere inside Jim were emotions and Sebastian knew that somewhere there would be a key to let them out. He just didn't know what it was, and it was making him feel helpless. This, he supposed bitterly, was what Sherlock, or Jim himself would be good at. Finding the key, the right switches to turn and press to let out whatever was festering away inside Jim right now. He switched on the hall light and then made his way to the lounge, collapsing into the sofa. "Course I don't bully you, wouldn't hurt you and control you? That's a laugh. What I thought it might mean was that I might actually be worth something to you, rather than being thrown away as soon as you found a better offer. Is it because I've lost my dad's money now, is that it?" he knew it wasn't, but didn't want to address the real reason, the yawning void inside himself of wasn't-good-enough-for-dad-not-good-enough-for-you. He was running out of parts of himself to break to prove himself. He glared at the floor. "I want a beer." 

“Don’t act so high and mighty,” Jim sneered a bit of color coming into his face. “I’ve been around the block, I understand what’s going on. You don’t get to tell me what I do with my body, /no one/ does. I told you I wasn’t—wasn’t whoring and you should have believed me or listened for five fucking minutes instead of going off.” Jim blinked in confusion, “What do you mean? You don’t think you- matter to me? I don’t know what the hell you are talking about, how did I ‘throw you away?’” 

"You chucked me off to go and suck off Holmes, didn't you?" Sebastian was managing to keep his voice steady, but only just. "It's not even like he's got a bigger dick than me, or is it his brain - the two of you can cozy up making snide comments about the rest of the world and laughing about that dumb rich twat with a broken leg you used to live with. Fuck I don't want to /control/ you. You want to suck off the whole rugby team you fucking can, I just sort of hoped you'd maybe not want to seeing as I thought maybe I could be good enough for you." His voice rose to a shout over the last sentence. "Now get me a fucking beer." 

Jim might have lost his shit a little bit. He stormed into the kitchen, grabbed the three beers that were left in the pack and burst back into the room. Jim took one of the bottles by the neck and shattered it on the floor. “There’s your god damn beer! Now you fucking listen to me Moran.” Jim stood where he was in the middle of the floor littered with glass and booze. “You are the most selfish bastard I’ve ever met. We’ve been fooling around for /weeks/ and you never once thought to touch me? Or is it just because I’m disgusting?” Another bottle crashed to the floor. “It’s because I’m a whore, right? Jim Moriarty, good enough to get you off but doesn’t deserve the same courtesy. And why should I? Whores don’t have feelings! It’s perfectly fucking reasonable to humiliate a person with something that’s private. I /told you/ not to throw that in my fucking face and what do you do?” Jim chucked the last bottle against a wall. “Fuck you Sebastian Moran. Fuck you, you privileged selfish /arse./” Jim was determined not to cry but all of that hurt was exposed and he didn’t feel like he could get any lower. 

Sebastian flinched a little as the first bottle smashed against the floor, his eyes widening a little as he realised exactly why Jim was angry. He almost felt glad as they lost the next two bottles, despite the room now being covered in glass, at least Jim wasn't cold and distant even if he was still bloody broken. "Fucking - why didn't you just ask? I thought you were perfectly happy with doing whatever you wanted." There was another reason, a dark and cowardly little reason that involved too many childhood insults and a fear that touching Jim would make him actually gay, but that was a reason to be pushed aside for now. Wishing he could stand up, he gestured at Jim to come closer. "I didn't want to start just touching you anywhere, specially anywhere you didn't want. But if you want a blowjob - fuck I'll give you one that'll make you forget Sherlock Holmes even exists..." 

“No, stop. I just—“ Jim took a breath and ran his hands across his face. Jim edged around the glass as best he could, kicked off his shoes and crawled along the couch until he was laying on top of Sebastian and had his face buried in his shoulder. “I didn’t—know. I know that sounds stupid and like I’m lying but I didn’t know we were- exclusive or whatever. I’ve never—“ Jim felt his face flush but Sebastian wouldn’t be able to see it while he had his face tucked away. “Never been in a- relationship before. Or been with anyone who didn’t also want to be with other people. To be honest it didn’t even cross my mind that you would care.” 

Sebastian was sure things were now going well, but internally he was panicking, even as he wrapped arms around Jim to hold him close. Sherlock had been right, he thought bitterly, hitting things and getting hit were his speciality, not this, and he gave Jim an awkward pat. "You silly little sod. Course I cared. Almost fucking ripped me apart when I saw you looking down at that skinny bastard all spread out. And I'd never want to be with anyone else, why the fuck would I when I've got you?" It was excruciating, even if it was all true, and he made himself feel a little better by growling and nibbling at Jim's neck. "You shoulda let me tear his cock off..." 

Jim sulked a little, exhaustion pulling at him. He was feeling moody after all of the drama and the relief of not having to hold so tight to his temper was strong. “You sure you don’t have a problem? With me? I’d get it if you…” Jim couldn’t think of the words he needed for this conversation. “If you were bothered by me and the people I’ve—been with.” Why did talking have to be so fucking hard? But if Sebastian could do it Jim would as well. 

Sulky Jim was quite fun, after all the sulking Sebastian had been doing lately and he continued nibbling at Jim's neck while he pouted. "Nah, people you've been with are just fuckers. I'd deck them if I could and I'll be pissed if I see one but fuck all I can do about it. People you will be with ... that's a different thing all together. Not happy at all about them, yeah? And I know you don't want to be controlled and shit, but if I'm your live-in-lover I figure I have some stake in deciding who's cock gets the prize of your hands. And in getting grumpy if it's not mine. And ... I'd rather you didn't go sticking your dick into anyone else as well, I mean the fuck's wrong with my mouth?"  
Jim chuckled humorlessly. “Nothing’s wrong with it, I’m just not sure you know how to use it.”

Sebastian pulled back at that, glaring at him, annoyed because it was probably true. He'd never gone down on anyone, man or woman, and the lack of experience annoyed him. "Oh yeah, and Sherlock Holmes, he's such a cock expert is he? That twat has probably never seen a cock, let alone taken one. He's got a five foot pole up his arse, he'd never fit a cock up there with it." 

“I guess if it wouldn’t fit he’d just have to top then.” Jim shrugged helplessly. Enjoying the teasing. 

"Oh yeah, because you'd love that, some skinny little bitch topping you... huh." Despite himself Sebastian found the words were getting to him, "How many more damn limbs do I have to break to prove I can take it for you, bet he's never even taken a bruise for you." He hesitated remembering that Sherlock had, in fact, taken two rather significant slaps from Sebastian and swore miserably, dropping his head against Jim's. "Look if you don't want me, don't take me. It's fine. But don't piss around jerking me off to keep me happy while you fuck about, yeah?" 

“I won’t fuck around, promise.” He mumbled against Sebastian’s neck. “I do want you, just don’t… don’t do this shit anymore it gives me a headache.” That was the least of it, but it was true. After an episode there was nausea and his head was always left pounding. “To be fair to dear Sherlock I did leave a few bruises /on/ him.” He blinked a bit, “I don’t understand what you mean? Take what for me?” Jim smiled, “Are you talking about my cock?” 

Sebastian nodded, even though he wasn't entirely sure what 'shit' he was meant to stop doing. Probably mentioning whores in any way was off the list, and he shivered a bit to think of what Jim might have gone through, the past that was locked away. The sympathy died a bit as he heard Jim's smile, and as the question was put to him directly and he scowled, tugging Jim's hair. "What you think I couldn't? I could damn well take it dry if I had to." it was a boast based on absolutely no experience and a certain amount of fake bravado. 

Jim laughed loudly in surprise and couldn’t stop. Oh god, Sebastian was so precious! “It hurts so fucking much, no you wouldn’t.” Jim wiped at his eyes after he calmed down, “Darling you wouldn’t like it. Don’t ever let anyone take you dry it’s just awful and it’s not sexy and it hurts to take a shit for weeks.” Sometimes he forgot there were people like Sebastian. It was nice, remembering that they existed. 

He was so pleased Jim was laughing he managed to chuckle along as well, despite the fact he was pretty sure they were laughing at him. He tugged Jim further into his lap, getting them both comfortable and strangely unwilling to let go of the awkward angular little body. "Yeah, yeah, alright. I've never had sex, rub it in." He gave a grin, rolling his eyes. "Well it's yours when you want it, right? Trust me, I'm not letting anyone else near it, lube or not." He hesitated and realisation dawned somewhere behind his eyes, "I bet that's what Irene meant when she talked about the oil..." 

“There’s no rush, we’ll get there when we get there.” Jim snuggled in to Sebastian, being mindful of his leg and the fading bruises. “Hmmm? What did she need oil for?” Jim’s eyebrows drew in. 

"Nah, she made a joke about it don't worry my arse is still a virgin." Sebastian rolled his eyes at the words, keeping one arm wrapped around Jim and looking a little sadly at the beer all over the floor. It didn't seem the best time to mention it though. "She was more interested in the outside body, not..." He flexed his arm against Jim and grinned, "that I blame her. C'mon there's no /way/ you found that stringy nerd attractive."

Jim rolled his eyes and huffed a breath against Sebastian’s skin. “Right, I was concerned she’d stolen your virtue in a moment of weakness.” Jim shrugged, not really sure why Sebastian was talking about this when he obviously wouldn’t like what Jim had to say. “Sure I did. I like all types of people. I think you’re attractive and you’re a muscly idiot.” Jim was teasing and he nipped at Sebastian’s collarbone through his shirt. 

"Yeah well that's good enough for me." Sebastian gave a sigh, roughly hugging Jim closer. "She didn't get anywhere near my virtue ... she thought about it though. You should've seen what she was proposing to put in me, would've put you to shame..." Irene had alluded to it, but back then Sebastian had been very certain of being straight and although she'd joked and smirked she'd respected it. Now though, part of him was almost wishing she hadn't - he felt a bit stupid being a virgin next to Jim. 

Jim sneered at himself a bit and this situation. He was still surprised at himself, that he was able to lay here and be comfortable with Sebastian even after he’d scared him shitless. After all the fights they’d been having you’d have thought that Jim would be uncomfortable or nervous. But he wasn’t. He felt like he could finally relax and he was almost… happy. It was a bit pathetic. He didn’t know how much the feeling of safety was engrained and how much was genuine. Jim supposed it didn’t matter that much, it felt real enough to him and anything that calmed the pounding in his head was welcome. 

Jim snorted, “Yeah I’m not all that big love. If you ever decide that you want more we can always find you something. Dildos can be nice. You’d like a stretch, just not dry.” Jim smirked evilly, “Maybe we can get one that vibrates.” 

For some reason, Seb found himself slightly relieved that Jim could describe himself as 'not all that big'. He still wasn't too sure about the idea, about the lack of power it would mean, about having to submit himself, even to Jim. It was comfortable now though, cuddled up together, maybe things would stay comfortable, although the idea of a dildo made him shudder, "Alright, alright. Fuck, you've really thought about this haven't you? I'm sure I'll be just fine with your cock, bound to feel bigger when it's filling me up." 

Jim smiled and nodded, almost done making Seb squirm. “And when you have an idea of what to do I’ll let you top. You’d like that right?” He smiled against Sebastian’s neck. 

"You fucking tease..." Well he was hard now, no hiding it. And no point even hiding it from Jim. Usually, this was his cue to push his cock in the general direction of some part of Jim he could rub against, but instead this time he just nuzzled at Jim's neck a little needily, "Fuck yeah I'd love that...." seeing Jim underneath him, the beautiful curve of that pale arse just waiting ... the thought made him groan. But Jim had to go first, he knew, otherwise the already shaky power balance between them would break up. Suddenly he thought he understood what Jim meant by 'power games' when he'd talked to Augustus. 

“You’ll love switching though,” Jim felt Sebastian’s breath on his neck and the anxiety in his gut dissipated a bit more. “I promise. I’ll make sure it’s good for you, okay?” Jim playfully bit at Sebastian’s ear. It was important to him that Sebastian enjoyed his first time. He knew Seb was hard but figured that he’d had no problems being vocal about it before and if he wanted anything from Jim he would just ask. 

"I may be a virgin but I'm not a fucking bride on her wedding night." Seb grumbled, rubbing at Jim's body. The sensation of being hard and not immediately shoving Jim's hands down was ... interesting. He wanted to see how long he'd last, especially with Jim being a little tease like this. "You don't have to be gentle, I want to feel it..." 

“I swear you are hopeless,” Jim covered his eyes with one of his hands. “I just mean I want you to enjoy it. I know what you enjoy so I’m sure I’ll hurt you a bit at some point. I don’t mean I’m going to coddle you.” Jim relaxed again, just running his mouth. “I don’t really enjoy pain though, so keep that in mind. Biting is fine, little things like that but I don’t like anything extreme. But I’ve done it all kinds of ways there’s a lot of things we can try.” 

"Course I'm not going to hurt you!" Sebastian nuzzled him again, even if this time is was with a slightly more urgent 'maybe move your hands' sort of nuzzle. He also didn't want to admit that the words 'I've done it all kinds of ways' had stung. Clearly he wasn't as immune to the thoughts of Jim with other people, maybe even other 'clients' than he'd hoped. He gently licked at the little bite-marks he'd made around Jim's neck and continued in the sexiest whisper he could manage, "Never want to hurt you, luv, just want to hear you yelling out my name..." 

Jim giggled a little bit, Sebastian’s efforts with his tongue tickled him. He ran his hands across Seb’s shoulders and then down his chest towards his waist. “A little bit of hurt is fine.” He said quietly. “Tell me what you want, Seb.” 

Sebastian gave a nervous swallow and licked his lips. This was is. He'd talked the talk, he'd been seemingly well forgiven, now it was time to actually do something, to prove something. Reaching forward he gave a little nibble at Jim's lower lip, "Want to suck you off..." 

Jim’s hands tightened convulsively around Sebastian’s shoulders. “I thought you were joking.” Jim saw that Sebastian was completely serious though, and that was- enough. Just the fact that he was genuinely willing to try at it made Jim smile. It didn’t last. “Condoms or it doesn’t happen.”

Sebastian stared at him, then dropped his head backwards against the sofa with a "Fuck..." Cock blocked by a lack of preparation - Jim never bothered using a condom on him and the irritation that he didn't have any, coupled with the reminder of exactly why Jim needed one, was a cruel mix. "Don't suppose you bought any for your little tryst with Holmes." He murmured, trying not to sound as bitter as he felt. 

Jim laughed at Sebastian’s dejected expression, “I have one in my wallet. I figured you might not have any, I was just telling you that we need to use one.” Jim sat up on his knees and reached in his back pocket. He frowned when he opened his wallet and was reminded that he hadn’t actually made any money today. He shrugged mentally, there was always tomorrow. Jim fished out the condom and looked down at Sebastian. “I’ll lie back on the couch and you can lie on top of me? I don’t want you kneeling on this floor with all the glass.” 

The relief, tinged with a fission of excited suspense, flooded through him as Jim tugged out the condom and he perked up again, rolling his eyes at the order. "Fuck that, I'm not moving anywhere, here ... kneel on either side of me, then you'll be at the right level." Having sat down on the sofa, he wasn't about to move his cast, or start squirming around on top of Jim. With Jim kneeling on the couch they'd both be away from the floor. He licked his lips again. "Tell me ... tell me if you want anything different from what I'm doing, yeah?" 

“That’s fine, I forgot you wouldn’t be able to move about with the cast.” Jim could have smacked himself. Jim smiled and got to work on his trousers, “Of course, I wouldn’t allow you to make a fool of yourself.” He smirked as he pulled down his pants and opened the condom. 

"Bitch..." Sebastian murmured fondly, his heart hammering away and his breath coming in slightly nervous little gasps. Watching Jim fiddle with the condom didn't really help his nerves; Jim might have called it small, but Sebastian didn't think so, and the thought of actually putting another cock in his mouth wasn't helping. Reaching up, he gave it a stroke over the condom, which just felt like smooth plastic. "You damn well better not make a fool of me." 

Jim laughed, trying to dispel Sebastian’s nervousness. “It’s in my best interest to make sure you enjoy yourself too. Just relax. You can start with just your tongue if you want—sorry it’s not flavored or anything but the taste isn’t /bad/—it’s not a competition to see how much you can take all at once, alright? You’ll choke and there will be snot and just—er. Sorry.” Jim closed his mouth with a click, that certainly hadn’t been sexy. Maybe Seb could just laugh at him and it could help him relax a bit. 

The nervousness wasn't going away as Jim listed off a few things that could go wrong, making Sebastian feel even more clueless and of course reminding him of Jim's vast experience, picked up in unsavoury circumstances. He gave a nervous swallow, looking at the cock in front of him and wondering where the hell to even start. Should he just try and swallow it? Lick it? Reaching down he took Jim's hand and placed it on his jaw, reaching forward and pressing his tongue against the tip. Thankfully, it tasted the way it looked, unflavoured shrink-wrapped plastic rather than too ... human. It smelt of Jim though. 

Jim shivered a bit, more at the picture Sebastian made than from the tentative lick. “That’s good Seb. Why don’t you put the head in your mouth and then go from there. I’ll tell you if you’re doing anything I don’t like—it’s pretty straightforward.” Jim was having a hard time not rolling his eyes at himself and his little pep talk. He was studiously avoiding thoughts of his first time giving head. That would be a good way to lose his hard on fast. “That’s right, just take it easy until you work things out. There’s no time limit.” He ran his hand through Sebastian’s hair. 

Sebastian glared up at him, his grip tightening on Jim's wrist, "Yeah how about you treat me less like a student who's failing a class and more like a guy you're actually fucking..." he muttered, just feeling stupid now. Ignoring Jim's instructions he continued moving his tongue around, sliding it over the condom wrapper, and feeling the heat from Jim's cock beneath it. "You want to teach me how to pleasure you, then teach me that, don't just give me a set of damn Ikea instructions for taking dick." 

Jim snorted and laughed, “Sorry, I guess I just didn’t want you to feel pressured but I’ve kind of smothered you, huh?” He touched Sebastian’s hair again. “That’s good- what you’re doing. I’ll shut up now.” He was still smiling ruefully. Jim was pretty sure he was more nervous than Sebastian was, it would probably be best to just let him try for himself and stop him only if something was going terribly wrong. 

Sebastian rolled his eyes, but didn't answer. What he really wanted, badly wanted, was for Jim to just treat him like a whore. Tug his hair, dig a knee into his crotch, slap him if he got it wrong. He could think of no way to say that though, that might not turn Jim cold and strange again, so instead he just got on with it. Sliding his tongue around the condom a few more times got him used to the taste until he finally felt comfortable enough to wrap his lips around it and start to push forwards, trying not to think of the fact that he had a /dick/ in his /mouth/ and that some of the more obscene of his fathers texts were closer to coming true. 

Jim closed his eyes as he felt Sebastian’s mouth wrap around his cock. “Fuck, Seb.” The hand in Seb’s hair tightened in a fist, pulling it lightly. Sebastian still seemed tense but Jim couldn’t think of anything else to do that could help him relax. That was one area where he was not experienced. “That’s nice. When you get to your limit you can just bob your head a bit.” Jim hopped that suggestions and directions wouldn’t be too unwelcome right now. 

Sebastian thought if he had another bloody mild-mannered suggestion he would seriously consider biting Jim's cock off. Jim should be moaning and whining and calling him a bitch and doing other sexy things. Not making little bland comments like 'that's nice'. Giving a little growl around Jim's cock he slid is lips off, reaching up and sliding the edge of his nails down Jim's inner thighs. "Alright. With all due respect boss, shut the fuck up. You want me to change or stop then tug my hair or knock me one on the jaw. Other than that stop sounding like a bored lady at a garden tea party." Taking a breath, he pressed forward, taking Jim in as deep as he could and closing his eyes in a desperate and doomed attempt not to start choking. 

“Shit, Sebastian—I’m not…” Jim bit the inside of his mouth, not really sure how to finish that sentence. For him, sex was about control and part of that meant anyway being in control of himself and keeping a clear head even when aroused. He… didn’t think he could just overcome that on command, didn’t think he knew how to let go anymore. Should he fake it? God but Sebastian would never forgive him if he did. Jim wasn’t sure he could get it right. He just—didn’t feel comfortable pushing Sebastian around, yanking him by the hair until he knew what he was doing. Sebastian wanted to be advanced when he was a beginner and he was going to hurt himself or Jim. There wasn’t really anything he could do about that though. He just tipped his head back and closed his eyes. 

For some reason Jim's response, more than anything, made Sebastian calm down a bit. Knowing that Jim wasn't entirely sure what to do either put them on a more even footing. Once again he felt that there was something locked up inside Jim that he needed to get out, although this time it wasn't quite so urgent and he could probably wait until he was slightly more proficient at blowjobs before releasing it. He choked and gagged a little as he took in too much. Pulling away and giving a little sigh, "Right..." a breath, and then he tried again, not shooting quickly forward this time, but bobbing his head back and forward as suggested, pulling out to look up at Jim with a cheeky grin, "Might take a bit of time, but you'll loose it by the time I'm finished, don't you worry..."

Jim smirked, challenging. “Don’t hold your breath, boy.” He tugged Sebastian’s head back by his hair, he felt comfortable with it because Sebastian couldn’t accidentally chomp his dick off with unexpected movement. “I think you’ll come before I do.” 

Now that was a challenge, and one he had no hope of winning, but still one worth participating in. With one hand rubbing at Jim's thigh, the other dropped to his own cock, looking up at Jim with smirking eyes as his hair was tugged back with his mouth still bobbing back and forwards. This worked, this felt fine, he didn't feel submissive, or faggy, or girlish, rather he felt alive, and crazy and high on the fact that he had Jim's actual cock in his mouth. 

“That’s right, I want you to touch yourself Sebastian. Who can you get off first, do you think?” Jim still smirked down at Sebastian, wondering how long he would be willing to play this game with him and if he would leave him when Sebastian eventually realized that Jim didn’t have anything more to give and he’d been chasing a mirage. 

Whether Jim was acting or playing didn't matter a damn thing to Sebastian, as he popped open the buttons of his jeans and slid a hand inside, sliding up and down Jim's cock and taking in more each time. He knew he'd cum first, that was a given, but he was determined to pleasure Jim right to the end, no matter how much time that took. Time to reciprocate. 

Jim hissed a breath between his teeth and then he moaned as Sebastian took him a bit deeper than before. “That’s good love, just like that.” He let his head fall back and his eyes close, wanting to close out extra stimuli so he could focus on this feeling. 

Jim still wasn't nearly as wild and sexual as Sebastian would have liked, but he resigned himself to the thought that 'good' was a step up from 'nice' and just kept at it, sliding his tongue around Jim's cock, bobbing his mouth up and down, hand stroking and occasionally pinching gently at Jim's thighs while his blood pounded in his head and his cock. It was starting to make his jaw ache though and he slid out, wrapping his hand over the condom instead and stroking back and forth, "You look fucking hot from down here." 

Jim smiled with all his teeth, pleased by the compliment. “I love seeing you underneath me. I think the first time I let you fuck me I’ll ride you.” 

That sentence went straight to his cock and Seb gave a groan, following it with a grin, "Unh ... that's cheating. How am I meant to resist that?" he wormed the hand on Jim' thigh around to squeeze his ass, before bringing it back obediently to the front of Jim and bobbing his head back down again, this time using his tongue inside his mouth more, experimentally rubbing the underside of the head, trying to find things he could do that would turn Jim on further. 

Jim chuckled, “I never said I’d play fair.” Jim gasped and tugged on Sebastian’s hair when he started using his tongue more. “Fuck, /that’s/ cheating.”

Sebastian grinned around the cock in his mouth, his finger sliding up and down Jim's thigh while his other hand squeezed desperately at the base of his cock, trying to prevent himself cumming, "No ... that's a blowjob, that's allowed." He was happy to let his tongue get more of the action, ignoring the ache and strain in his jaw, which wasn't used to this at all, and starting to almost enjoy the plastic taste. Certain his cock was enjoying, particularly the tugs on his hair. 

“Well you cutting yourself off /is/ cheating. Do you want to come, Sebastian?” Jim worked his hands through Sebastian’s hair and touched his face. He was getting pretty close himself, his breathing was harsher and he could feel his face flushing a bit. 

"Yesssssss...." it came out as a desperate whine around Jim's cock, and Sebastian just pressed his cock harder, bobbing deeper but this time being more careful about knowing how far was too deep. He started sucking a little as well, increasing the pressure a bit, seeing how it felt in his mouth and seeing how Jim reacted. He was so close now, but he knew if he did cum he'd have to get Jim's cock out of his mouth so he didn't bite down. 

Jim groaned when he felt the vibrations from Sebastian’s words on his dick. Jim threw his head back and shuddered when he felt Sebastian increase the pressure. Jim looked down and caught Sebastian’s eyes and put as much of a command into his voice as he was able to. “Come.” 

God it sounded like an order and that was more than enough for Sebastian to slide his mouth away from Jim's cock, grip it with one hand while the other gave himself three hard strokes. And then he was cumming in a mess all over his jeans hissing out, "Fuuuuuck Jimmm..." as he did it. The taste of the plastic was all mixed up with the smell of Jim and the sound of Jim's voice and it was amazing just how hot it had been, sucking a cock. 

Jim smirked and reached out, stroking Sebastian’s damp hair. “Good boy. Did you like that?” 

It took Sebastian a few breaths to recover, and to nod almost without thinking as he heard Jim's question. Looking up at Jim's cock he gently released his grip on it, giving it another stroke, "I-I should. Yeah. Finish, finish you off." 

Sebastian looked out of it and Jim didn’t like that. “You can take a minute to relax, you don’t have to right away.” He reached out and touched Sebastian’s shoulder and ran his fingers along the collar bone. He wanted to ask if he was okay but he thought Sebastian might slap him. 

Sebastian nodded again, still stroking Jim's cock, deciding he liked it and was more than happy to have it in his mouth. He arched his neck sideways as Jim's hand ran along it, giving a slightly soppy smile and then straightened up, licking his lips and taking Jim's cock in again, head bobbing back and forth, trying to reclaim the heat he'd heard in Jim's moans before. 

Jim had lost some of the build while Sebastian was occupied but he was regaining ground quickly. “Shit Seb.” His fingernails dug into Sebastian’s shoulder. Jim smirked and thought he might be able to throw Sebastian off balance. “If I had lube I’d tell you to put your fingers inside me.” 

Sebastian almost choked on the cock in his mouth at that, eyes watering a little as he recovered without removing it, still bobbing back and forth, his hands now both working, one stroking Jim's inner thigh the other sliding around to squeeze at his arse and gently tap at the little entrance. He wouldn't go in, but he figured he'd been given permission to play around with it at least. 

“Fuuuck.” Jim groaned sharply, over pronouncing the ‘k’ sound. “Seb, I’m gonna- gonna come.” 

Sebastian nodded, seeing as the cum would go into the condom rather than down his throat he could probably cope with it. He made a mumbling, "Mmm-hmm" sound, hoping Jim would hear and translate as a yes, while his throat sucked gently and his fingers rubbed and pressed around Jim's arse

Jim felt a hot rush and he threw his head back and arched his back as he came, tension held throughout his whole body. Jim was usually a shaky mess after he came, trembling with released tension until he calmed down. Jim had constant tension and stress held in his muscles and when he reached orgasm a lot of that tightness dissipated, leaving him relaxed but his muscles needed time to adjust. He was still breathing heavily as he pulled the condom off and threw it away in the waste bin. Jim laid down on top of Sebastian again, nuzzling his nose into the other boy’s neck. Jim liked his smell. “Thank you.” His body was still shaking slightly but he’d already mostly settled, like an earthquake in the aftershocks. 

Sebastian felt slightly proud as the condom hit the bin, pulling Jim down and closer to him and giving a faint sigh as Jim said a 'thank you' but not bothering to question it. It was his first blow-job and quite a big step; no getting away from being queer now. He stroked at Jim's body and made vaguely soothing noises, but still couldn't help a rakish grin and a murmur of "Not bad, but I clearly need more practice..."

Jim’s eyes dipped closed lazily. He was relaxed and tired and Sebastian was warm underneath him. “You did good, don’t beat yourself up about it—you did a lot better than I did my first time.” 

Now that was something Sebastian wanted to ask about, but not right now, with Jim practically purring curled on his lap. It suddenly struck him that this was the first time he'd seen Jim after orgasm and he felt a twinge of guilt. No wonder Jim had been propositioning strangers. From now on he decided he wanted to see Jim cum far more often. 

Jim sighed, relaxing deeply into his spot on Sebastian’s chest. His mind was peaceful for the first time in ages. “I need to go home tonight, I think. Check on my ma. She’s been harping at me the last few nights when I don’t come home or if I do it’s really late. I haven’t told her about—you. Not living at home anymore or anything. I’ll make you something to eat here and then go home and make sure she hasn’t starved in my absence.” Jim snorted, he thought it was funny how his mum was so hopeless in the kitchen that she fucked up boiling water. His jaw cracked as he yawned and stretched out a bit. “I don’t think I’ll leave yet though, it’s still early for dinner.” 

"'S fine." Sebastian murmured back, knowing that spending the night alone thinking about his first blow-job and Jim lying with Sherlock wouldn't be hugely pleasant but arguing with Jim after they'd made rather a nice truce didn't seem worth it. He gave him another cuddle and then managed, slightly forced, "Did you want to come into school again tomorrow, you didn't really make anything today..." 

Jim smiled, his eyes were closed but he could still hear the uncomfortable tone Sebastian used. “Yes, I’d like to. I can come back tonight after I check in or I can meet you here tomorrow morning? Which would you prefer?” 

"Meet me tomorrow outside the school gates." Sebastian decided. Time to stop acting like a stupid kid and man up. Besides, he knew if Jim snuck back into bed he'd get hard again and cause problems. "That way I can let you in again and you can actually get up to something productive. And I can get hauled up for leaving early today." 

Jim made an unsympathetic noise, he felt his brain shutting down but he searched for words anyway. “’S your fault, where did you think you were going anyway?”

"I was going to go to a club and get smashed." It was a self-destructive urge that he knew was childish, but didn't really care. Jim was sleepy now anyway, and didn't look like he'd get angry. "I was going to drink until I forgot what you looked like crouching over Holmes looking like you wanted to eat him, and then come back here and fall asleep on the floor." 

“That’s stupid. Are you even legal? Did I miss your birthday or something?” Jim teased lightly. 

"I look legal. And you know most clubs don't care as long as the money comes in. They're all arse to the wall with the profit margins because the booze is so cheap. Some stupid kid coming in looking to get as drunk as possible will make their day." He looked around at the spilt booze and glass on the floor. "not like you don't drink." 

“Course,” Jim mumbled. “Booze is good. Wish it was cheaper.” He thought the stock at home was probably gone but unlike Sebastian he couldn’t pass for eighteen and go get more. “Think I’m gonna sleep now.” 

"You do that." Sebastian patted his head. his jeans felt wet and sticky, but he couldn't really be arse to hobble to the shower and clean up. Once Jim had gone, he decided, he'd maybe think about getting sorted out for bed then. 

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Jim dreamed in shadows and shapes, the images and sensations distorted like a funhouse mirror. Sounds were the only thing that came through clearly. Click. Click. Click. “That’s good Jamie. Fuck you are tight.” A prick scraped down the back of his throat. Someone was crying. Flashes of light blinded him even though his vision was blurred. He couldn’t breathe. “What did I tell you, huh? /Stop crying./” Jim’s vision focused and he saw Sebastian kneeling naked in front of him, choking around his cock, and tears streaming down his face. He looked up at Jim with fear and hate, his eyes asked him why whywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhy. Jim felt someone wrap their arms around his waist and hold him as they whispered in his ear. “Happy birthday, big boy.” 

Jim startled awake with a gasp like someone had been holding his head under water. He was disoriented, not recognizing the new place but he smelled beer and sex and his mind screamed at him in panic, confused as to whether he was still dreaming or awake. His looked down and saw the face from his dream lying underneath him, watching him cautiously. He wasn’t crying, he wasn’t accusing him, he was—“Sebastian.” The face from his dream faded away and Jim was left staring at his friend’s face. 

Sebastian hadn't slept, but had rather enjoyed dozing as Jim slept curled up in his lap. And then suddenly Jim was jerking and gasping, like a fish caught on a line. Sebastian wrapped his arms around him, trying to keep him mostly still, and trying to stop him from kicking out at Seb's injured foot. "Hey, hey, what the hell?" He gave a small nervous chuckle at Jim's disoriented face, "Jesus, what was that dream about? Mad killer carrots?" 

Jim didn’t quite catch what Sebastian said over the sounds of his own breathing and the pounding in his head. “What?” The question was slurred and he blinked sharply, trying to clear the last of the sleep from his head. “Fuck.” 

This was more than just a simple nightmare and Sebastian made a little confused sound, awkwardly petting Jim in a way that he hoped helped. "S'okay. You're here. My place, yeah? Do you, uh, want a glass of water?" He looked helplessly at the sodden and glass covered floor. "Shoulda cleaned up really." 

Jim shook his head in response. He knew where he was, remembered what had happened. Sebastian had given him a blow job earlier- his first time. Jim shuddered, remembering the dream. His fucked up mind had placed Jim as the abuser and Sebastian—Jim shook his head again. “I need—toilet. Be right back, don’t get up.” Jim stood carefully and picked his way across the floor, avoiding the glass. He made it to the bathroom and shut the door before falling to his knees and sicking up in the toilet. His breath came in sharp gasps and he felt sweat prickle at his forehead. He felt better though- he always felt better after he got sick. Jim stood and flushed the toilet before rinsing off his face in the sink and gurgling some of Sebastian’s mouthwash to get rid of the taste of vomit. God he was disgusting. Jim avoided his reflection and hurried out of the bathroom with towels for cleaning up the floor. 

Sebastian stood up as soon as Jim left, using crutches and his plastered leg to avoid treading on the glass he got out a broom, frowning as he heard Jim throwing up in the toilet. He'd swept most of the glass into the corner when Jim got back and said quietly, "That must have been a hell of a nightmare." He was aware that his crotch was still stained with cum, that the taste of plastic condom was still in his mouth, and that the room stank of beer. 

“I’ll help mop up, sorry about the mess.” Jim set a towel down on the floor and moved it around with his foot, trying to soak up some of the liquid. He had passed over Sebastian’s inquiry but he could still feel his gaze on him, even if Jim couldn’t look at him right now. “Yeah I guess it was, sorry.” Jim pinched his arm sharply, he’d /apologized./ Twice. This wasn’t the time to be falling into old habits. 

Jim saying sorry was possibly the most terrifying thing that had happened so far, but Sebastian just gave a shrug, helping to move the towels around as far as he could balancing on the crutches. "Not your fault. Everyone has nightmares." He reached forward and grabbed at Jim's fingers as he went to pinch himself again, crushing them slightly, "Oi, none of that. You don't need to hurt any more than you're already hurting." 

Jim growled in frustration but still couldn’t make himself look at Sebastian. He was afraid he’d see that image of him again and he /didn’t want it./ “Fuck.” He bit down on his lower lip hard and tightened his grip on Sebastian’s hand. “I know. I /know!/” He felt raw everywhere, like the very air and light stung. 

"What the hell is up with you?" It wasn't angry, but was slightly sympathetic and slightly exasperated. He watched Jim biting his lip, knowing he couldn't prevent Jim hurting himself if he wanted to, then lightly gripped Jim's jaw, trying to look him in the eyes. "Does this happen every time you cum?" 

“No! I don’t know- sometimes.” It really didn’t happen all the time, this situation with Sebastian was just different. More… triggering than a lot of the other times Jim had fucked around. Jim looked up at Sebastian and he wasn’t crying but Jim could still see that question in his eyes. Whywhywhywhywhywhy. He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against Sebastian’s chest as he took a deep breath. 

Sebastian gave a baffled look at the top of Jim's head, wrapping an arm around him anyway and patting him on the back, "'S OK, you'll be fine. And I really that shitty at giving head?" 

Jim surprised himself with a laugh, it was such a typical thing for him to say and Jim grasped at normalcy with both hands. “No, you aren’t. It was good Seb, and not related.” Mostly. Not in the way Sebastian was joking about anyway. He felt lighter though, more centered. 

It was a relief to hear that he wasn't responsible at least, and Jim seemed to be calming down. There was still a nagging part of Sebastian that felt he needed to know though - if a part of Jim was broken it could be a liability, and his job as a bodyguard was to be prepared for any liability, no matter what caused it. Instead though, he patted Jim again. "Would it, uh, help to talk?" And then, slightly more hopefully, "Would it help to have a beer?" 

Jim chucked and smacked Sebastian, “You are incorrigible.” But he stepped away and headed for the kitchen. “You sit down, I’ll be back in a mo.” Jim was escaping the conversation and the oppression of the living room but he didn’t care. He grabbed two beers and opened them before heading back into the living area. 

Sebastian gave a grin, starting to feel a bit smug. Already this evening he'd given Jim a blow job, calmed him down after a nightmare and now he was going to have a beer. There was still an ache whenever he remembered Jim bent over Sherlock, and a gnawing worry when he remembered the fear and lostness in Jim's eyes as he'd woken from the nightmare, but overall he seemed to be doing pretty well. he sat back down on the sofa and put his arms behind his head, smirking. 

Jim was happy to allow Sebastian to be distracted from their previous conversations. He certainly wasn’t going to bring it up. Jim sat down and handed Sebastian his beer, amused at how pleased his friend looked. “What’s got you so smug?” 

"Just think I might be managing the whole bodyguard thing after all." Sebastian gave a satisfied little nod and then grinned, "And also, you know what? At no point when you were fucking around with Holmes did I even /consider/ crawling back to my dad. Even though the alternative is a tiny flat which is a tip because I never clean it with a broken leg. So pretty successful overall." 

He rolled his eyes and ignored his beer. “I help you clean up sometimes and make sure you don’t starve.” Jim lost his humor, “You do like it, right? I know it’s not a palace but… I thought you might be more- comfortable here.” 

"Yeah, yeah, course I like it." Sebastian rolled his eyes at Jim's insecurity, "I'd bugger off if I didn't. I'm getting used to being skint, and it's nice not having to watch my back for the old man every ten minutes." He took a swig of the beer. "It's great. I'm just a slob due to persistent exposure to personal maids. I'll snap out of it." 

Something in Jim relaxed knowing that Sebastian wasn’t just hiding his discomfort and planning the best way to go back to his father. “I’m glad. That you didn’t go back, I’d be-” angry, disappointed, concerned… “Frustrated. We went through a lot of shite to get here and I don’t like to think of having to scrape what’s left of you off the cellar floor.”

"Nah, not worth it. Besides, it's my bloody life." That was the terrifying part. That he had no idea what to do. It hadn't been a problem before, but now they were short of money and he was out of action with his ankle it was getting annoying. "Besides he'd love to get his hands on me, and I'm not giving him that satisfaction." 

Jim smiled bitterly, “Good.” Jim still hated Moran with a vicious passion, even if he did end up going all to pieces every time they had a confrontation. “I’d take him for all he’s worth but he’d drag things out in court. It’s better like this I think, the money you have access to isn’t hurting him in any real way so he’ll let it slide for now.” 

Seb knew that Moran Sr. was still a problem they had to deal with. Despite his disappointment in Sebastian the man wasn't about to let his only son go that easily, to say nothing of the irritation and frustration he'd feel about being blackmailed. That would hopefully be a problem to face up to later, ideally when his ankle had healed, "Yeah just don't poke him while he's down. He's paying us now and it's ... enough." 

Jim nodded in agreement. While it was frustrating that everything hadn’t gone as well as he’d hoped, the situation was good- a lot better than what they’d come from. Jim didn’t miss watching Sebastian limping around all the time. Of course, he was still limping but that was Jim’s fault now. He felt—pressure and responsibility for Sebastian’s welfare now that he’d basically forced him into living on his own. And if cooking and tidying up occasionally assuaged that feeling then it wasn’t hurting anyone. As long as Sebastian didn’t start calling him “mum.” Jim set down the untouched beer. “Yeah I know. He’ll lash out eventually, after he’s gained some kind of support or leverage.” 

"Yeah ... because Moran's are famous for waiting for sensible moments before doing stupid things." Sebastian murmured. The more he thought about it, the more certain he was that it wasn't over with his father, still there wasn't anything he could conceivably do about it. But when he thought of his fathers political friends with the rude bodyguards, and Mycroft Holmes, there was a worming worry that as well as Jim getting stupidly involved with drug dealers they were also about to get stupidly mixed up with politicians, or the police. 

“You’re fretting, stop it.” Jim pressed his finger against the wrinkle growing between Sebastian’s eye brows. “Just focus on getting out of this cast and keeping yourself healthy, I can’t do anything if my pieces are damaged.” To be fair, Jim only had two or three pawns (people who owed him favors) a vicious queen who could move around the board to either help or destroy him (Moran) and Sebastian, his knight. It wasn’t much but Jim was very good at playing with what he had. Jim stood and cleaned up a bit, “I’m going to make pasta now. Any preferences?” 

It should have felt demeaning to be referred to as a 'piece' but it just made Sebastian relieved again that Jim seemed to know what he was doing, and more determined than ever to get better. It sat back down again, clearing the table in front of the sofa, "Nah, no preferences. Make what you like. There's some cheese in the fridge if that helps." 

Jim snorted and left for the kitchen, he knew what was in the fridge- he’d been doing the majority of the cooking for the last week or so. As he collected ingredients his mind mulled over his problems and future threats. Thinking about Moran and what moves he could make while simultaneously thinking about Sebastian and where their relationship was taking them. He was worried about stumbling over more pitfalls like he had tonight and how he could avoid triggering himself that badly in the future. He sighed as he put a pot of water on to boil. Facts were, there was no way they could stay in this tentative peace they’d found- even Sebastian knew it. When shit hit the fan, Jim swore he would be ready.


	4. Play the Game

Dear me, playing with the Holmes boys? Was I not enough for you? If you're interested in having that hot little body filmed again for cash I can put you in touch with some people. And please put a tighter leash on Sebastian, my house is crawling with very intense secret security men, and Holmes is insufferable. -Augustus Moran

What can I say? I’m greedy. I bet dear Mycroft will be most displeased with you when he can’t find Sebastian there. JM

It's always hard to tell when Mycroft's displeased. He's got a resting bitch face. Ever met him? What am I saying, you've probably blown him. –Augustus 

Can’t say that I have met him before, would you introduce me? I’m always happy to make friends and influence people. JM 

He'll find you, don't worry. Sebastian's met him before. For the same reason. Is his foot healed yet? –Augustus 

Poor dears, they just keep butting heads. I think it’s love. Just a very aggressive game of pulling pigtails. Thanks so much for your concern, he’s healing fine. JM 

I don't think Mycroft Holmes even knows what love is. However he is an annoying little shit, particularly when he's in my house. I might give him a message for dear Sebastian seeing as you fail to deliver them. –AM 

What have I failed to tell Sebastian about, exactly? JM 

I just don't trust you to deliver a message to him. Although I am slowly coming to terms with the idea that you've been fucking my son. Does he cry when you do it or is he at least man enough to cope? –AM 

Of course I’ll deliver a message. As long as I think it’s in his best interest to hear it. I’m still disturbed by your fascination with your son’s sex life. I think someone might be jealous~ this is… what? The fourth time you’ve mentioned me having sex with someone? I’m flattered, truly, but you and I were really just a onetime deal. JM 

I hope you don’t feel like I was just using you. I really thought we had something special. JM 

It's in his best interests to come home, it's in your best interests to keep him tied to some grotty little house because the delusional sap thinks he loves you. I wouldn't say we had something /special/, but it was bloody satisfying breaking into that tight little arse of yours. –AM 

It’s in his best interest to be in one piece, and you can’t be trusted to leave him that way. I’m glad you enjoyed yourself because you are going to be paying for it for a long time. I’m probably the most expensive whore you’ve ever had. JM 

Tell him if he comes home I won't hurt him. He can have a week of amnesty. And don't flatter yourself, I've had better and pricier whores than you. It's Sebastian who's paid the most for you; lost his chances, lost his potential, and he'll damn well end up loosing his life. Right now it's a game, but the more people you piss off the more dangerous it'll become. –AM 

I’ll tell him, because he won’t care about your promises. He knows how much your word is worth. I’ll keep your advice in mind. I’m just afraid I don’t have the ability to kiss arse like you do, I couldn’t make it in government. JM

You'll never make it anywhere you silly boy, other than sucking cock in a dirty bathroom. Despite what you might think I do care about my son and I'd rather he not suffer the same fate. –AM 

But by all means, please continue screwing him and pretending you're some big bad criminal. –AM 

What can I say? I learned it young. I’ll pass along your message, I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to hear from you. JM

You know I don’t understand it. He’s not difficult to please, he’s practically tripping over his feet for approval. Would it have been so fucking hard to give it to him? JM 

I'll approve of him when he does something worth approving of. Running off with a cocksucking whore and playing at being an army faggot doesn't hack it I'm afraid. –AM 

God, you are so lucky. If I’d been born your son I would have smothered you in your sleep years ago. JM 

If I'd had a son like you I would have left the woman I had it with. Have fun with Mycroft –AM 

No instead you had Sebastian and your wife left you. Bit of a scandal I heard. And I look forward to meeting him, his brother was such a dear. JM

His brother is a complete disgrace; worn out little junkie. Does that sort of thing get you all excited, hmm? Rich young men wasting their futures? –SM 

Maybe I just see potential in pieces that other people have thrown away. JM 

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Sebastian headed to school in a taxi the next day, aware that with the money situation he should probably start taking the bus. He saw Jim waiting outside the gate, and then his heart sank as he saw a black car slide up next to them. Getting out the taxi he hurried over with the crutches, scowling as Mycroft got out of the car. "Morning Holmes." He snapped, putting a protective arm around Jim while balancing on the crutches. "Strange seeing you here, thought you worked in the city now?" 

Jim stared in confusion and vague horror at the arm wrapped protectively around his shoulders. He was… becoming comfortable with the casual touching while they were alone but—no. He thought about shoving Sebastian and tipping him over onto the ground, but that wouldn’t give the right impression. Instead he casually stepped forward away from the arm and stood closer to Mycroft, putting himself in charge of the conversation. “Mycroft Holmes, I’ve heard so much about you of course. Augustus Moran speaks very highly of you. He told me you might be stopping by. What can I do for you?” 

Sebastian scowled as Jim moved forward, but he was sort of getting used to Jim being in charge and was happy to stand behind him, looking as menacing as a young man in a plaster cast and crutches could look. Mycroft looked slightly surprised to be address by Jim, shooting a confused glance at Sebastian, which was returned as Sebastian heard Jim mentioning his fathers name, before continuing, "If you know Augustus no doubt you'll know I've spoken to him about this before. Please, Sebastian, have you really nothing better to do than terrorise members of my family? My brother has a penchant for getting into trouble, and while I can't stop all of it I'd at least like some sort of damage control." He looked pointedly at Sebastian at the word 'damage', and Sebastian sneered and held up two fingers 

Jim scowled at being mostly ignored. Certainly the warning was for Sebastian himself, but… “Really all of this over a school yard tiff? Lovers quarrels are suddenly a matter of national security? I heard the secret service was involved this time.” He turned to Sebastian with a rueful smile, “And you said I cause too much trouble.” 

"Lovers quarrels?" Mycroft gave a small humourless smile. "When I finally got him to open up Sherlock did tell me that one of you had kissed him and the other had beaten him up. I think I can probably guess which one. Moran, please don't even think about threatening my brother. You've got no father, no protection, and a rather shaky police history. Moriarty..." He gave Jim a speculative look. "I'm not sure how much of a habit your little kiss-and-tell operation is but I assure you, attempting to blackmail either myself or my brother would be the last mistake you'd ever make..." 

Jim smiled sweetly, sticking his hands in his pockets. “I have no idea what you’re talking about of course. Blackmail is very illegal. Your brother was for fun, not business. You don’t have to fret Mr. Holmes. Besides, as long as Sherlock did nothing wrong there’s no leverage is there?” /God/ Holmes was fun. Jim wished he could think of a way to get him to play, it was no fun while he was being all /reasonable/ and /stoic./ He didn’t think that Moran would have told him about the blackmail… and Jim hadn’t said anything. A lightbulb went off, “You work with Richard Ashworth, the Magistrate. Don’t you?” 

"I work with a lot of people." Mycroft responded, looking rather pointedly at Sebastian's foot. "Blackmail is, of course, completely illegal, but then it's only really effective if nobody knows the secret already. Unlike trespass. Which is illegal. As is grevious bodily harm, underaged drinking..." Sebastian gave a little growl from behind Jim and Mycroft gave him a tight smile, "Do be careful Moran. You'd be far safer at your fathers, but I suspect you know that." 

Jim snorted, “Oh yeah, that’s bloody well likely.” Jim tilted his head thoughtfully. “You really are a cold hearted bastard aren’t you? What if it was Sherlock? Would you tell him to go home and man up? Just deal with it, because nothing could be more important than money and the family name, right?” 

"Believe me it is of no concern at all to me if the Moran family name gets dragged through the mud." Despite speaking to Jim, Mycroft was looking at Sebastian, watching the rage building inside him, watching his hands clench into fists. "In fact if Augustus continues to make such a fuss about this ridiculous blackmail charade that might be more politically expedient. I don't think it's escaped notice that Augustus isn't the most ... nurturing of fathers, but until he's eighteen Sebastian is technically required to either live with him or become a case with social services which would let more skeletons out of the closet than we'd care to do. My brother has plenty of his own problems. None of which would be helped by starting an ill-advised affair with a semi-legal Irish immigrant." 

“You looked me up?” Jim smiled coyly, “I’m flattered.” Jim dropped his charade, “What would it be worth to you? If I ruined his career?” He smiled again, “I’m always looking for a better offer.” 

Mycroft raised an eyebrow, he clearly hadn't been expecting that. "At the moment, I'd really rather you didn't. It'll create paperwork and I'm already working most evenings. I could certainly ... help you if he ever refuses to pay up. But I'd like you to keep away from my brother." 

Jim nodded, “He’s of no value to me if he’s ruined. But if you were ever willing to make me an offer that could… compensate for the physical and emotional damages I’ve suffered then I think we could come to an agreement. I think the footage speaks for itself.” Jim tried to shake Mycroft a bit. “He’s a very /forceful/ man, isn’t he? And then there’s the matter of me being underage. I wonder how uncomfortable that makes you lot in government.” Jim sneered, “Or are you all like Moran? I appreciate your offer and I might take you up on that one day. He’s been pulling at his leash lately—I’m less worried about him refusing to pay and more concerned about how he’s threatened to make /me/ pay. And Sebastian of course. Do you think that’s something you could help with? I’d return the favor somehow, of course.” 

"I've seen the footage." Mycroft said, his expression not changing from one of bored disinterest with a tinge of frustration. "You aren't the only people going around sticking cameras in politician's houses. I assure you most of those who watched it found it highly distasteful but please do not make the mistake of thinking that Mr. Moran is the first man to get into this situation. Nor is anyone particularly worried about what might happen to you. Understand I'm not saying this as a threat, or an insult, it's merely a statement of fact. You, James Moriarty, are currently a nuisance, but as to me you are a personal nuisance I thought I'd come and give you a personal warning." 

“Only most of you found it distasteful? That’s so encouraging.” Jim rolled his eyes, “All I’ve ever wanted is sleazy politicians rubbing one off over me getting fucked. Thanks for that.” Jim smiled sardonically, “I appreciate the heads up, I won’t be fooling around with your brother any more but I can’t promise I’ll keep away from him completely. He’s very bright, your brother. I think he has a lot of potential.” 

For the first time Mycroft gave a slight frown. Augustus Moran had said something similar, albeit from the other direction, and the gears in Mycroft's head were already whirring, trying to figure out how much Augustus and Jim were collaborating, what patterns there were within patterns. Either way, he couldn't see it being much bigger than a small crime wannabe and an aging politician who was outliving his usefulness. "Either way." He said finally, "Step inside that school and I'll have the security guard throw you out." he climbed back into the car as Sebastian flicked another V-sign at him and snapped, "Fuck off Mycroft..."

Jim groaned and turned to Sebastian. “Fuck he was probably serious. There go my plans for making money today.” Jim pouted, “You’d think it be enough if I just left his brother alone but apparently he doesn’t trust me around the children of influential people.”

"He's just being a wanker." Sebastian gave a frustrated snarl as Mycroft drove away, "You should've let me deck him." He grumbled, knowing that would be a bad idea, "I bet that fuck went to my fathers house, and he told him all the dirty..." he gave Jim a suspicious glance, "How do you know Mycroft anyway, you two were chatting away like old friends. 

“I don’t. Know him I mean, I guess we’re just kindred spirits.” Jim answered absent mindedly. He was going through the layout of the school in his head, trying to remember if he’d seen a way in that was less conspicuous than the front gate. “Don’t hit Mycroft, he was very polite. Cold as ice, but polite. I wonder if he genuinely cares for anything outside of that brother of his.” 

"His career maybe?" Sebastian glared after the car, part of him slightly jealous that Mycroft had managed to get such a prestigious position. "I'm not about to hit him, I'd get shot or something. Bet there's a sniper waiting above the school just now." He sighed, looking at Jim as the bell went off for the start of lessons. "Want me to stay out with you? We could try sneaking you in over the wall at the back..." 

“You’d best get to class, I can manage.” He turned a feral grin on Sebastian, “I can climb like a cat. I’ll meet you when you get out for lunch, same place at the bushes? We can text until then if either of us need something.” 

"Yeah same place..." Sebastian wasn't at all happy about meeting where he'd seen Sherlock, but he was already running late so just waved at Jim and limped into the school, passed the scowling security guard. 

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

I made it over, no one saw me. JM

Great, just be careful about security guards lurking. There are spare uniforms in the locker rooms if you want to blend in. –SM 

You just want to see me in a uniform. ;) JM

Found one, not quite a perfect fit but it'll do. Thanks for the tip. JM 

If I had to choose any uniform it wouldn't be a school one... –SM 

Why not? You could spank me when I was naughty. JM

Jesus fuck I'm meant to be concentrating on maths here. –SM 

Thought I wasn't allowed to hurt you. –SM 

I said I could do some pain, I just meant whipping, burning, cutting I'm not into the more hardcore stuff. JM 

Jesus you've really thought about this. –SM 

It doesn’t exactly take a lot of thought Sebastian, either you like something or you don’t and you remember not to do that again. JM

I think I'd quite like you in a soldier's uniform. –SM 

Oh lord, I’d look awful. All scrawny and sickly. I don’t know if I could even fit into one. I guess if you’re into that. –JM 

Oh. Yeah. Nah, you want a proper fitted one, because that's all weird isn't it, seeing the one slight short thing in the army, you start to wonder why he's there ... what he does. Clearly not a soldier... –SM 

But because he's the smallest and shortest and you've just transferred you dunno, so you try feeling and groping him up a bit. Squeeze under the uniform while he scowls and squirms... –SM 

Then the next day you wake up with a fuzzy head tied up naked and blindfolded and he's whispering in your ear "the army employs more than just soldiers you know..." –SM 

Oh my god you are awful. Is that what you’re planning on doing when you go into the army? Rough up twinks in the showers? JM 

What? Course not! Well maybe the odd pretty one. If he asks for it. –SM 

Well as long as it’s consensual then, you have my blessing. JM 

Nah I wouldn't boss, not if I'm still with you. –SM 

Oh you are such a gentleman. JM

You started it, talking about spanking you in a school uniform. –SM 

Which I wouldn't do, by the way. Nothing sexy about school. Maybe in a little ravers outfit though... –SM 

You’d change your mind if I sucked your cock in an empty classroom. JM

I'd change my mind if you were in a skirt with no panties underneath. Something I could just flip up and whup you. –SM 

You’re being awfully creative this morning. JM 

What do you want to do about Holmes? JM

What? Fucking - which Holmes? You are such a cockblock. –SM 

<3 JM

The one from this morning Seb, Mycroft. JM

Oh him. What can we do about him? I can't smack him one and you can't sleep with him, even if you did want to. –SM 

Now Mycroft Holmes is someone who could do with a caning. Sort him out no end. –SM 

Is there another reason I can't sleep with him beyond our agreement from yesterday? JM 

Do YOU want to sleep with Mycroft? I bet he'd cane you. JM 

Yeah, because he's completely not turned on in the slightest by anything. I could take a caning off that bastard, no problem. –SM 

I find that very difficult to believe. I'm almost insulted that you think anyone has the ability to resist... all this. JM 

It's not a matter of if you /could/ darling, it's if you /want/ to. That's kind of the deciding factor in these things, canings are meant to be enjoyed not endured. JM 

Yeah well he would. Made of stone that one. –SM 

C'mon boss ... just surviving something can be fucking ace. But if we're being blunt, no I would not want Mycroft Holmes to cane me and fuck me - I'd want Mycroft Holmes to cane me and then you come in and fuck me for being stupid enough to let Mycroft get hold of me. –SM 

Sex isn’t a punishment you moron. JM 

Yeah but it would be hot. -SM

Oh my /god./ I remember when you used to be a prude. JM

How do I get Sebastian the prude back? JM

Make me talk instead of text. SM

And maybe not get me fucking hard in the middle of a damn maths lesson? SM

Are you hard? Are you touching yourself under the desk? JM

I'm hard, course I'm not touching myself. I’m in a maths lesson. –SM

You're thinking about it though. You could ask to go to the bathroom. JM 

Well I was about to and then someone decided to talk about the Holmes' –SM 

Right, I forgot. –JM

So you're fine with half the British government knowing what we did and you aren't worried about that coming back to bite us in the arse at all? JM 

You have zero feelings about me offering to ruin your father's name, potentially closing some future doors for you? JM 

I am /horny/ Jim, I'd be fine with the entire British government lining up to arrest us if you could meet me in the bathrooms first. –SM 

Ha. I think those doors slammed when he found out I was a fruit. –SM 

You aren't a fruit you're a nut. JM 

I can still squeeze him into pulling strings for you. Maybe. I'm not certain on that but it's possible. JM 

We talked- on the phone last night. It was almost a civil conversation. JM 

What strings do we need pulled? –SM 

Oh yeah, the ones to get me into Sandhurst and into an officer position - wait you WHAT! You talked to my dad? –SM 

Yeah I meant to tell you this morning but we were distracted. JM 

And yeah, those are the strings I was talking about. Career ambitions and things like that. JM 

What the hell did he have to say then? Why is he contacting you and not me? Are you my fucking owner now? –SM 

No you idiot, he wasn't contacting me about you- not really. JM 

What did he say. SM

Bitching about Mycroft mostly, he blamed me for you going off on Sherlock. Which was fair if we are being honest. JM

Heh. Oh damn, him and Mycroft talking behind your back. Ha - at least he can't stand the bastard. –SM 

I don't think them joining up against us would be a laughing matter. JM

Anyway, he had a message for you- just the same old stuff about how it was in your best interest to go back to him. Pretty much exactly what you predicted. JM

If that's the best he can do then forget it. He hasn't messaged me at all. -SM

He doesn't want you to end up with me, sucking people off in the men's room, because he /cares/. (He actually said that.) JM

That's probably because I blocked his number on your new phone. JM

He said that about you? -SM

Fucking kill him. As soon as I can walk -SM

Oh gods, I think he called me a whore about thirty times. After a while it just gets old, there's plenty of other things he could go on about. I think he's jealous that we are fucking. JM

I. Will. Kill. Him. -SM

Were you alright? -SM

Yeah why wouldn't I be? JM

Gods, don't bother with him. He was just cranky because Mycroft was harassing him. JM

Well. When I said it by accident you basically shut down. -SM

Okay, there's a fucking difference and don't pretend you don't know that. JM

And don't you act like it was a fucking accident. You knew exactly what you were doing. Every god damn time. JM

I didn't realise it was going to break you down. -SM

I'm meant to be your bodyguard and I don't know which shit I say is suddenly going to break you. -SM

Yeah well I told you not to fucking say it, don't be surprised when it bites you in the arse. JM

There's a difference because you know that there's actually truth to the statement. Your dad just think's I'm loose, it's not the same. And you're supposed to be my- partner, I expect better from you than I do from your abusive father. JM

I'm being serious Jim - if I've got to watch your back I need to know your weaknesses. If I'm supposed to be your partner shouldn't I know what's going to hurt you? -SM

Not if you are just going to use it to throw it in my face like you've happily done literally every time we've had an argument. JM

Oh for fuck - Yeah. True. Fair enough. -SM

So what do we do about that then, can you trust me to stop being a prat or do I have to prove it a bit first? -SM

Don't know. I don't think it's really a problem either way. It doesn't bother me much when other people say it. JM

That's fine then. Least I know. Sure you don't want me to go beat up my dad? –SM

Huh not that I could. Wanker. -SM

Well now I'm no longer hard. -SM

No, I told you he was fairly civil. I might just have all future conversations with him over the phone. There's less pawing and groping and he's not trying to physically intimidate me over the phone. JM

Pawing and groping. -SM

Yeah? JM

Nothing. -SM

I hate him. I hate the fucker so fucking much, how the fuck does he think I'm ever going back there. –SM

He's so entitled he feels like he owns you. And me for that matter. I wonder if that's everyone he's fucked or if I'm just special. JM

That's why I broke his thumb you know. For the touching. JM

Should've broken his damn body. He feels like he owns everything that's why he's a fucking British diplomat. -SM

Hahahahaha! Seb! You made a joke! JM

Huh. –SM 

Sorry, I wasn't hiding it or anything. I thought I told you, but maybe not. JM

If you are just going to worry about what else he might have said you are free to read the conversation off my phone later. It's going to make you mad though. JM 

Your call. I think I can guess most of it. He's pretty damn predictable. –SM 

If you think that it will put your mind at ease then I’d rather you did. You might even laugh, I got a few good shots in there. -JM

Yeah all right then why not. Could do with a laugh. –SM 

Alright. Sherlock is here! He says he knows someone who I should talk to about a job. JM 

Give him a slap from me would you? –SM 

Darling I don't think you'd like the kind of slap I'd give him. JM 

I dunno, I could watch you tan his arse pretty happily. –SM 

Oh hush. Besides, we both promised big brother that we'd leave him unmolested. JM 

The day I take orders from Mycroft you can damn well put me down. Better not though. –SM 

HA HAHAHA oh fuck I forgot. JM 

Do you remember the last time you said something like that to me? JM 

Go on then, what did I say last time? –SM 

You told me that if you ever lost enough dignity to come on to me that I should shoot you. JM 

That was really flattering by the way. Warms my heart that does. JM 

Ha. Well there you go. If you ever need me out of the way you've got an excuse. –SM 

Well, you are still an asshole if that makes you feel any better. JM

Like I need an excuse. JM

And you're still a psychotic little bastard. -SM

Darling, that's never going to change. JM

You love it. JM

Didn't say I was complaining. -SM

You're eternally complaining. JM

I'm kidding. JM

Well /clearly/ that's because I need another blow job. -SM

I need you to check out some books for me from your school library. JM

I haven't given you your first one, don't get ahead of yourself Tiger. JM

Ugh, do I always have to blow you now before I get one in return? -SM

Alright, let me know which ones you need. -SM

Nope, but you should appreciate it. I'm sure you understand a bit better now anyway. JM

Alright, I'll give you a list. There's no way you could be expected to remember them all. I'm so thoughtful. JM

Understand what? Don't choose too many heavy books, I'll have trouble with the crutches. –SM 

I mean now that you've sucked dick, you'll appreciate receiving more. JM

Fine. The things I do for you. JM

What the hell do you mean "appreciate"? Should I have thanked you for letting me suck you off or something? -SM

Only if you wanted to, kitten. JM

Fucking call me kitten again you'll be swallowing your teeth. You gonna text me the list or do I need to try and find you next lesson? -SM

Alright, alright. I thought it was cute. JM

I'll text it to you. I'm too busy to come find you. JM

It was pretty damn cute but if anyone else finds out I'm fucked. I'm trying to build a reputation here. Not helped by still being on damn crutches. -SM

You probably shouldn't have said that to someone with a very recent history of blackmail. JM

Your crutches are very manly, don't worry. That scowl that you wear all the time is plenty intimidating. JM

What the hell can you blackmail me for? I'm already giving you my fathers money, fighting your battles and sucking your cock. -SM

Don't exaggerate you shithead. I've not touched your father's money. You only fight the battles that you chose to get yourself involved in, I fight plenty on my own. And you got me off once during the last few weeks, don't act like such a fucking martyr. I'm sure it was a horrible horrible chore, you don't have to do it again if you are going to be such a piss baby over it. JM 

The fuck is up with you, is it because you're hanging around Sherlock? Starting to regret which one of us you chose? First you witter on about me 'appreciating' you and now you're getting angry for no damn reason. Do you just want to have it written down in a form you can save? That I loved it? Do you want to be able to wave it in my face while you bounce on Sherlock's dick? –SM 

I’m not angry ‘for no damn reason.’ This new job is bothering me, it’s not about Sherlock. I’m pissed about the job. JM

Har har you are so funny. I’m about to keel over I’m laughing so hard. JM

I might have overreacted. JM

You know, I wasn’t saying that you should appreciate me letting you suck my dick. I was saying that when I return the favor you will appreciate my efforts more because you’ve done it before. JM 

Didn't realise it was such an effort for you. -SM

It's not. Do you have to twist everything I say? JM

Huh. I still don't get what you mean. 'S not a favour I'm returning. It was just hot as fuck. –SM

Oh. JM

I just- I guess I got the wrong idea. JM

Look we need to talk, you're getting all fucked up over text messages. Want to meet in the bike sheds when the bell next goes? -SM

I'm not shagging you in a bike shed. JM

I'm just teasing, that's fine. JM

I'm guessing Sherlock's not invited? JM

Sherlock is fucking not invited unless you want me to knock him around. -SM

And damn right you're not shagging me in a bike shed, not with my ankle still buggered up. -SM

More incentive for you to heal then. I'll see you in a bit. JM

Yeah, don't do anything stupid before I get there. –SM 

What do you think I'm going to get up to in the time between then and now? JM 

I'm not sure I could write all the things you could get up to in the time we have left -SM

You're the one with imagination after all. JM 

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Jim scowled a bit and kicked at a rock while he waited for Sebastian. Sherlock had given him directions to the place Sebastian had been talking about. This was going to be a pain in the arse and he was already trying to think of ways to dissipate the—misunderstanding, whatever. The last thing Jim needed was to get in one of their shouting matches when he was supposed to be hiding from security. He pulled absentmindedly at the collar of the shirt he stole. It was odd dressing like this. Like something he might have imagined for himself when he was a little boy. He could pretend for a day that he was affluent enough, good enough to get into a public school like this, like he actually belonged here instead of sneaking in like a thief. There was no pretending though- even with the uniform on it couldn’t be clearer that he didn’t belong. It was probably for the best anyway. Idle day dreaming was for children. 

It was hard to play truant with crutches, as sneaking was all but impossible, but Sebastian made his way down to the bike sheds under the pretence of heading to the toilets, giving a smirk and a chuckle as he saw Jim. The clothes the boy was wearing were a mismatched sixth form sweater and fourth form shorts, with the sweater far too big and the shirt only just fitting underneath. Sebastian leaned the crutches against the wall and sat himself down on the bench inside the shed. "What do you think you look like ... c'mere." Reaching out he tugged Jim into his lap. All the texting had left him pretty horny and despite what he'd said Jim looked pretty cute in a mismatched uniform. "Now what the fuck have you been trying to do and how is it going to blow up in our faces?"

Jim was relieved that Sebastian didn’t seem all that angry. He let Sebastian pull him into his lap and only pouted a little bit when his clothes were fiddled with. “Did I get it wrong? How am I supposed to know what stupid posh people wear?” Jim tugged at the tie around his neck helplessly. “I don’t think ties suit me. Oh, are you talking about the new job?” Jim resented the accusation, nothing blew up in their faces! Sometimes his plans went belly up but it was always a—/controlled/ fuck up. 

Rather than snapping Jim was pouting, which Sebastian took as encouragement to continue. Squeezing at Jim's hips and all but groping at his arse, before slapping his hands away from the tie and straitening it properly. "Sixth formers wear the black trousers and grey sweaters, everyone else wears grey shorts and the maroon sweaters, you're all over the place." He grinned, pleased to have Jim back and pleased that Sherlock didn't seem to be on the menu now at all. Reaching up he tugged the sweater over Jim's shoulder. "Nice. And yeah. What's this new job and can we do it while I'm still ... not at full capacity." 

Jim scowled, looking down at what he was wearing. Sebastian seemed to be right. “Well damn. I guess I’ll try and sneak back in and find the right clothes. I should probably find a maroon sweater then.” Jim noticed Sebastian’s hands on him of course but decided not to begrudge him that. The boy really was hopeless, at least until his foot healed. “Sherlock was telling me, I had no idea that they had so many language courses here. You must speak /at least/ two. Let me guess, French? German? And the Latin of course. Greek?” Jim bit down on his enthusiasm sharply. “The job. Right, it’s this girl and she says her ex-boyfriend has nudes of her on his computer. He’s been threatening to send them around school if she won’t take him back. She wants them deleted from his computer. I’ve just got to decide how I want to go about that. This is part of why I need you to get me things from the library, I haven’t got a lot of experience with computers.” 

"Latin badly, Hindi passably, Mandarin enough to get a shag and I'm doing French for my O-levels." Sebastian said smugly, deciding to pass on the mention of Sherlock for now. "Dammit, see if my leg was better I could just smack the bloke around until he deleted them." he frowned, still petting Jim while he thought. It felt a bit like stroking a viper on his lap, fun but with a sparking element of anticipation in case Jim suddenly decided he didn't like being pawed at while discussing new jobs. "Don't bother teaching yourself hacking, there's a hundred bitter little nerds who'd do it for you for a wad of cash and a glance at some nudes." 

Jim looked to the side and his mouth twisted a bit as he thought. “I suppose. Still, useful skill to have. Don’t you think?” Jim snorted suddenly, his eyes danced. “Right and the Mandarin has done so well for you in that department.” He idly reached up and picked at the hair on the back of Sebastian’s neck. “We don’t need to be making any more enemies, don’t beat anyone up. Ideally I’d like it to look like an accident.” 

"You wait, if I ever go to China I will be fucking raking it in." Sebastian continued smugly, one hand sliding along the waistband of the too-short shorts while the other still tugged at the sweater, "Unless he's got even fewer functioning legs than me I'm not about to smack him. And yeah, teach yourself computing if you like but it might be useful to have someone else to take the fall if it all goes tits up." he felt a shiver go through him as Jim's hand played at the back of his neck. "Or you could just physically destroy the damn computer, if he's some twat with a grudge I doubt he's organised enough to make copies and store them elsewhere." 

Jim watched Sebastian tug at his clothes. “I said I want it to look like an /accident/ not having to pay to replace his computer if it gets broken.” He paused though, thinking. “You know you actually might have a point. I could get a virus and crash the computer that way. It couldn’t take long. All I would need is a disk or flash drive.” Jim leaned in absently and kissed Sebastian’s mouth as his thoughts raced ahead. “Thank you, Sebastian.” 

The kiss took him completely off-guard but after a brief shocked moment Sebastian wrapped his arms more firmly around Jim in his lap and returned the kiss, nibbling on Jim's lower lip. This time when his cock started to jump he didn't even try to hide it, instead pressing it up so Jim could feel and grinning into the kiss. "Well there you go, I'm not just a pretty face." 

Jim laughed, “No you aren’t. Obviously I’m the pretty one.” He frowned, remembering something Sherlock said to him today. “You know you’re intelligent, right? I might call you an idiot—because you are one—but you’re plenty smart. You shouldn’t sell yourself short. I wouldn’t be wasting my time with you if I didn’t think you had potential.” 

Sebastian frowned, not sure where that had come from and then his eyes widened as he remembered the texts. Pulling back a bit he started patting at Jim's pockets. "Right, I want to see your phone. The conversation with my dad." He gave a smirk and pawed at Jim's crotch a bit, "Don't make me act on that suggestion of giving you a spanking..." 

Jim rolled his eyes and pulled out his cellphone. He’d debated over deleting some of the conversation, but he hadn’t in the end. Sebastian wouldn’t be surprised by anything that his father had written about him and it was stupid of Jim to potentially lose trust over trying to protect Sebastian from things that he’d probably heard a hundred times. “Have at it.” 

Sebastian took the phone, settled Jim in his lap and read through the conversation. His jaw clenched as he read through it and at the end he took a deep breath, handing it back to Jim silently. It hadn't been a surprise, but it hadn't been fun to read either and his blood was boiling at the thought of it. He also felt a spike of jealousy, his dad and Jim, exchanging snipey little text messages about the last time they'd fucked. And one point of confusion stuck in his head, Jim's text about his desire for validation. He hadn't thought he'd been that desperate. "Yeah." He managed eventually, "Don't bother showing me next time." 

Jim shrugged, tucking his phone away. “I didn’t have to tell you about it at all, you know.” Jim watched for a moment, analyzing. “You’re upset.” It was an invitation to talk more than a statement. 

Sebastian glared at him, with no one else to feel pissed at Jim was the only option however he wasn't about to come out with anything stupid. "Yeah, yeah. Course I am. You would be. Now what are we gonna do about this wanker with the nudes. Could we maybe convince her to become a stripper? Then it wouldn't matter what he had on her." 

“You are such an insensitive fuck,” Jim reached out and pinched and pulled at Sebastian’s cheek. “It matters. It matters to her. This arsehole is trying to manipulate her into having sex with him. If she doesn’t he’s going to ruin her reputation, humiliate her… you know people have killed themselves over situations like this?” Jim was scolding but still mostly serious. He really hoped Sebastian wasn’t /that/ emotionally stunted. “He’ll be lucky if ruining his computer is all I do. Maybe I will let you smack him around.” 

"I'm happy to smack him around if you want me to. One more week of this bastard cast then I'll be out of it." Sebastian shrugged. He was well aware that the 'client' in question was in a bad state, and knew morally they were in the right here, which made a bit of a change. On the other hand, caring about the livelihood of people he didn't know was pretty exhausting, and Sebastian generally found even caring about the ones he did know took up too much time. "Can I have a look at the nudes before you delete them?" 

Jim slid off Sebastian’s lap and adjusted his shorts. “I suggest you get back to class unless you want me to smack you. God, I think I need to call Adler. I really thought I had you house trained.” 

Sebastian raised his eyebrows as Jim suddenly went cold and slid way, reaching out to tug him back, "Fucks sake what's got into you? Since when have you been all bleeding heart about some daft bint stupid enough to send nudes around. Please tell me she's paying you at least..." 

“Oh yeah I’m such a bleeding heart. Thinking that maybe people should have control over who sees their body is so fucking liberal.” Jim was seriously trying to keep his temper under control. He wasn’t yelling at least. “Alright, how would you feel then if I’d taken pictures of you sucking my cock and then I sent them all around your school?” Jim’s voice was soft but vicious; he wasn’t going to worry about Sebastian’s temper right now. “Your classmates call you a faggot in the halls and your teammates won’t change with you in the locker room any more. Some pushy fucker thinks it’s okay to try and jump you in the shower ‘because you’re a cock whore and everyone knows it.’ Does /that/ bring the situation home for you?” 

"Why do you care so much about some random girl?" Sebastian hissed back. His jaw clenched as Jim continued, glaring at him and clenching his fists. He knew he wouldn't hit Jim, he never would again, but right now he rather wanted to slap him. "I'd beat the hell out of anyone who tried to jump me, you /fucking/ well know that. And it's nice to know that you at least /know/ what would happen to my reputation if it got out that I was kneeling down for some scrawny little fuck-up like you, even if you don't seem to give a damn about it." 

“Yeah I /know/ what would happen to your reputation, I don’t think /you/ do. Let’s not forget which one of us /is/ openly gay and which one of us goes to a posh school with private security.” Jim took a deep breath and fought to keep the situation from escalating. It would be /so/ easy to let things devolve into another screaming match. The fuck up comment stung but Jim heard it enough from other people that it lost some of the edge. He was tired of Sebastian’s words hurting more than they should. He ignored all questions about why he cared. He didn’t /care./ He was not going to have this discussion in a /fucking shed./ 

Sebastian stumbled forward on his good leg, the cast was stopping him from grabbing Jim by the front of his oversized sweater and slamming him against the wall, and for a moment he was glad of that. "Fat lot of good private security is when it'll be half the bastards in here trying to hurt me." He sneered back. He could see Jim fighting for control, and knew, /knew/ that it would only take a few words to break him. Simply hissing 'slut' would probably do it. The knowledge that he had that power, that Jim had /let/ him have that power, was staggering enough to stop him shouting at least and he sighed, rolling his eyes. "Alright, you have to stop being a goady bastard and I have to stop flying off the handle or we'll never get /anything/ done. You go have a think and I'll get your books out and find you a geek if you need one." 

“I think I’m going to go, I got what I wanted anyway.” Jim took a breath and ran his hands across his face. “I don’t—think you understand. I don’t know that you could. Your life isn’t a fucking fairytale, Jesus, I know. But people give a fuck about you, even if it’s for shallow reasons like your money or influence or whatever. If you died tomorrow people would talk about what a shame it was and how much potential you had. I know it’s not—worth much, as it’s all bullshit and they don’t really know you, I get that. But it’s something. It’s not worth much but it’s worth something.” 

"Fucks sake..." Sebastian rolled his eyes again, limping forward and putting two heavy hands on Jim's shoulders, "Firstly, there is nothing at all bullshit about the potential I've got, even if you and my father seem determined to agonise about it together. And if you died? Give me a break. My dad would be over the moon, obviously, but Mycroft would be a bit pissed, and whoever you've been screwing over for drugs would be gutted, and I'd go to fucking pieces. You're building yourself a whole little empire here, aren't you? If you die, the whole thing falls apart. My life is worth a hell of a lot more than just 'something' and give it a bit and yours will be too." 

Jim was trying to cover the grin that wanted to escape with a scowl. He wasn’t going to argue with Sebastian, he had the ability to stand there and argue all day. It wasn’t like the other boy really had any idea of what Jim got up to when he wasn’t around or what his relationships looked like. God, as least he hadn’t brought up his ma. Small favors. “I wasn’t—trying to make it sound like you don’t have potential or that you- don’t matter.” That was as close to an apology as Sebastian was going to get. Jim smiled cheekily, “Do you really think Mycroft would be pissed?” Somehow the idea of being able to get /any/ kind of reaction out of the stoic man had taken hold in Jim’s mind. Dying or faking his death would be taking it a bit far though. 

Sebastian gave a grin, even though Jim was trying to hide it he could tell that he'd lightened up a bit. He brushed off the half-apology, he didn't really need Jim telling him he had ability. He knew that. What he needed from Jim, which had been completely pinpointed by the little bugger, and by his father as well, was the validation. The feeling that what he was was /worth/ something, and could be worth even more. He didn't need Jim telling him he was good, he needed Jim giving him orders so he could /prove/ he was good. He knew that might be worth thinking about a little harder, but couldn't bring himself to care very much. "Oh yeah, Mycroft clocked you completely. He'll have an eye on you now, so don't misbehave near any CCTV." 

Jim laughed, “Are you saying he’s checking me out? That’s a very ambiguous term. And I always avoid the CCTV. What do you think I am, an amateur?” 

Sebastian rolled his eyes again at the laugh, bopping Jim lightly on the shoulder. "He's checking out your brain. I told you, the man's as asexual as a pine cone. Besides, can you imagine sleeping with him? It would be like building a wardrobe with a sarcastic screwdriver." 

“I’m not sure I trust your judgment. You told me Sherlock was attracted to plants, and look where that ended up.” Jim smiled up at Sebastian, falling back into the leasing. “Right, but is he clocking my brain in a bad way or a good way? Is he watching because he’s afraid I’m a threat to national security or because he’s hoping I’m a threat to national security?” 

Sebastian scowled at the mention of Sherlock. Now he was standing he couldn't tug Jim back into his lap, but he could stroke the side of his face and muss his hair a little bit. "I still don't think he would've gone through with it. And now we'll never know, what a pity. And who knows? Maybe Big Brother would be all over you, specially in this silly uniform..." he grinned, "Three strokes for daring to wear a sixth form sweater, two strokes for non-matching socks, and for teasing and squirming all over a fellow student ... hmm ... six strokes." He took a breath and tried to drag his mind out of the gutter. "Fuck knows what he thinks you are. But he knows you're playing in the political game, probably worried you'll create paperwork." 

“And you insisted that there was nothing sexy about school.” Jim stood on his toes and kissed Sebastian abruptly before stepping back and towards the door. “You really do need to get to class. And I’ve got a drug dealer to speak with.” 

"You are a fucking tease." Sebastian growled back, grabbing his crutches and giving Jim a swat on the arse as he walked passed him, "Text me those books you want, I'll stick them in my bag and take them home. And be careful playing with dealers, they don't always play nice." 

Jim rolled his eyes at Sebastian’s antics. He allowed the concern, Sebastian wasn’t aware that he didn’t mean to play with them. He was going for business and Jim didn’t play people he was in business with. “I’ll come by the house when I’m through.” Jim walked out the shed and made his way toward the back wall where he could shimmy over the barrier without being seen. 

"Yeah, I'll be there." Sebastian muttered, heading back to his next class. Now he was awkward, turned on, and pissed off at Jim. But part of him also felt ridiculously pleased that they hadn't actually got into a fight this time.


	5. Infection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are chapter specific trigger warnings, if you would like to see them please click for the end notes but there are definitely spoilers.

Jim was sitting in Sebastian’s living room after dinner, flipping through the pages of one of the books Sebastian had gotten him in the library. Computer code was /fascinating/ but Jim didn’t know that he’d be able to get his skills up fast enough for his client. Jim should probably buy a pre-made virus off of one of Sebastian’s classmates. “Oh, by the way- Sebastian? I went to Ashworth’s house last night. I’m letting you know so you aren’t horribly surprised if Mycroft comes swooping down in that ridiculous car of his.” 

Sebastian choked on his beer as Jim mentioned Ashworth, staring at him in horror and then quickly looking him up and down to check that he wasn't damaged. "What did you do, waltz in the front door? How did you get in?" it had already occurred to Sebastian that the next time he tried to get into a family friends house walking up in a suit and knocking on the door would be a better option than pretending to be Rambo. 

“Er, sorry I should have specified. I didn’t go anywhere near the house.” Jim kept his eyes on the text, not wanting to look at Sebastian. “It was actually just the guard’s station. I set off a couple of homemade bombs. I used draino. You told me that too many guards left their stations in response to a disturbance. So I used the distraction to get onto the property. I think the blast accidentally felled a small tree.” 

"You blew up a tree with draino?" Despite himself Seb was impressed, despite being a little disappointed that he hadn't been involved, "You should've told me, I could've ... helped." It was difficult to work out exactly what help a limping rugby player could be, and the thought of that pissed him off a little. "Did you get in then? Find whatever it was you were looking for?"

Jim smiled but kept his eyes on the text. “What, the coffee pot? Yeah, I found it.”

"Good." Sebastian snapped, suspicious that Jim wasn't looking at him, and completely unable to remember why they had wanted to break into Ashworth's house and steal a coffee pot. "Well at least you found the damn thing. And at least I got you /some/ useful information." 

Jim snorted loudly, “Mycroft’s going to be mad that four of Ashworth’s men ended up in the hospital. I didn’t steal anything. While they were out looking over the grounds I spiked the coffee. It was a midnight shift, the chances were higher than more of them would drink from it.” 

Sebastian stared down at his beer, conflicted thoughts in his head. On the one hand, the thought of the bastards who'd mocked him and hurt him being in hospital was a nice one. On the other hand ... poison seemed a bit underhand. "What the hell did you spike the coffee with, cyanide?" he managed. He'd sent people to hospital himself, often narrowly missing out on changes of Grievous Bodily Harm, but poison could potentially kill, poison was dangerous. Also impersonal. "Nobody's going to know you did it..." 

“A bottle of eye drops.” Jim flipped another page in his text book. “Tetrahydrozoline helps reduce redness in your eyes because it actually constricts the blood vessels. So when it’s ingested…” Jim trailed off suggestively. “When all of the blood vessels in your body constrict it can making breathing difficult, cause nausea and vomiting, and seizures. Worst case scenario it can induce a coma or halt breathing entirely.” Jim flipped another page. “If anyone could figure it out, Mycroft could. I mean... we have a run in with them and less than a month later someone breaches security and poisons half the staff? And doesn’t make an attack on the magistrate? Please. He’s going to at least suspect, even if he can’t prove it. Your dad might piece it together as well.” 

"Fuck..." Sebastian gave Jim a sideways glance, trying to imagine him actually doing it, knowing that potentially the guards could die. "Well don't let me accept any more coffee from you. Does your neat little plan include any ideas of what to do if my dad /does/ suspect us? There's always the off-chance that Ashworth won't exactly share it around that he's got budget security but I bet Mycroft will find out." 

Jim shrugged, finally looking up from the book. “I’ll deny it. To be fair you didn’t actually have anything to do with it. I don’t really care if your father finds out, what’s he going to do? Mycroft is only a problem if he can pin this on me. And he can’t because I was here having sex with you last night, I couldn’t have been anywhere near Ashworth’s.” 

"Oh great, just tell Mycroft that then!" Sebastian gave an unimpressed sounding "huh". "Sorry Mycroft, couldn't have been me, I was here sucking off the bloke who broke in a few weeks ago. And if can't have been /him/, because he's a useless fucker who can't even be trusted with a Draino bomb. What exactly were you trying to achieve by poisoning his staff?" 

Jim looked back down at his book and flipped a page casually, not really taking in the information. “Nothing, it just made me feel better. It wasn’t easy coming up with ideas. It had to be something slow so that it could affect as many people as possible before the effects set in and they figured it out.” 

"Poisoning random people makes you feel better? Why the hell didn't you poison Ashworth, that might have actually achieved something." Sebastian snarled, taking another swig of the beer, "And fucking look at me when you talk to me." 

Jim looked up, startled. “Why would I poison Ashworth? Mycroft can ignore petty revenge but attempted assassination of a high ranking government official is a little more noteworthy. The only reason I sent you after Ashworth in the first place was to find out if he knew anything about the blackmail and it turns out the whole fucking government knows about it so that quickly became a pointless endeavor.” Jim watched Sebastian drink from his beer. “You’re upset.” It wasn’t quite a question but Jim didn’t understand why Sebastian was angry. 

"Well why would you poison Ashworth's bodyguards, was it a threat?" Sebastian glared at him, opening his eyes in mock surprise at Jim's final statement, "I'm upset? Really? Good god you truly are a genius among men. Work it the fuck out, maybe because I've been fucking around at home playing with effing homework for the last week while you've been fiddling around with bombs and sting operations and god knows what else." 

Jim closed his book and stood up, “Forget it, I can’t talk to you when you are like this.” Jim bristled, “It wasn’t a threat, they pissed me off so I put them in the fucking hospital which is where you’ll end up if you don’t quit being such a bastard. Boo hoo, you’re bored! You’ll get the cast off in a couple days and you can get into all of the trouble you want.” 

"How did they piss you off, you never even met them?" Sebastian snarled at him, feeling a cheap thrill that he'd managed to knock Jim out of his self-satisfied little bubble. "I'm the one that got done-over by them, and slapped around and treated like - fuck." He glared at Jim angrily, knowing he was probably being unreasonable. "I don't want to get into trouble, I want to be useful for you, for things you're doing. Not just a spare wheel twiddling my thumbs. You're knocking out bodyguards, doing fuck knows what with drug dealers, and I'm just sat here gathering dust." 

“That’s what pissed me off so much, you are a /fucking/ idiot. You thought for one second that I was going to tolerate that? You’ve been on crutches for /weeks/ and you thought that I was just going to let them off easy?” Jim scoffed, taking a step back. “I like having you around, but despite what you might think I actually don’t get into too much trouble. I can look after myself most of the time.” Actually when Jim thought about it the only real trouble he’d ever gotten into was with Sebastian. To be fair the boy had also gotten him out of just as much, if not more, deep shit when he got in too deep. 

Sebastian frowned, then gave a humourless laugh, "You beat them up for /me/? How wonderful of you. I'm sure once they've finished having a coma in hospital they'll be far more charitable to any blond punks they find crawling around the shrubbery. They'll really learn their lesson about messing with you - oh wait, they fucking won't. Because they have no idea who you are and they didn't even see you." He glared at Jim, "If you don't need me around, why don't you just fucking ask me to leave? It’s not like I haven't got anywhere better to stay than this dump." The worst thing was it was true. Since moving out and throwing his lot in with Jim he'd been limping around and arguing with Jim about Sherlock. Hardly useful. 

“You do this every fucking time I do something for you. This is the only way I—know how to do anything for you. As my—bodyguard or whatever. I told you I wouldn’t let anyone fuck with you—uncontested anyway. So what if they don’t know? They are suffering, that’s good enough for me.” Jim calmed down a bit, lowering his voice from a shout. “I do- want you around.” He hadn’t been able to say he needed Sebastian. “I don’t want you to leave. I was just saying that I haven’t been reckless or stupid, because I know that you should be there to watch my back.” 

"Well thanks." Sebastian snapped and then, grudgingly, "That was fucking impressive getting inside." It wasn't Jim he was angry at, it was himself - for having a screwed up ankle, for not being able to join in the fun, or help in any way. "Well good because I'm not leaving. Not giving either you or my father the satisfaction." 

Jim smiled a bit, pleased despite everything. He was starting to think yelling and fighting were the only ways they knew how to talk to each other properly. “Good. Don’t. Neither of us deserves anything from you.” Jim stepped into Sebastian’s space but didn’t touch him just in case. “Are you still pissed?” 

Sebastian glared up at him, although his anger was starting to fade, "And don't go on about never doing anything for me - you gave me a hand-job last night didn't you? Course I'm still pissed, I wanted to smack those bastards with a cricket bat and now half of them are in hospital twitching." 

Jim fought a smile, “Alright Basher, I get it. Next time you can come with, just in case. Getting caught like you did was the most likely thing that could go wrong and it would have been nice knowing that you were there to come in with a cricket bat if things went bad.” He was mostly joking but part of him would have been less anxious if he’d had backup. Of course at the time his anxiety was muted behind rage and cold calculation. He’d just wanted to hurt them. Jim sat across Sebastian’s lap, smiling lazily. “Deal?” 

"Don't think you can just cozy up to me and get away with anything." Sebastian snapped, reaching out and squeezing Jim's thigh, tugging him closer, "What have you got going on in the drug-world then, hmm? I'd rather here about it in advance rather than when it all goes tits up..." he sighed as Jim's phone buzzed, “Who’s that - Mycroft?" 

Jim dropped the smile and reached for his phone, frowning at the message. 

How childish. Do you feel poor Sebastian is avenged now? –AM 

I have no idea what you are talking about. JM 

Of course you don't, dear boy, is he grateful? -AM

Jim scowled fully at his phone, sending off his text. "No, it's your dad. Told you he'd figure it out. And before Mycroft too." 

"Nah, Mycroft knows." Sebastian answered darkly, sneaking one hand up under Jim's shirt to cling onto the soft skin below, "He's just not stupid enough to immediately send you a text telling you he bloody well knows."

Jim startled a bit when he felt Sebastian's hands on him. "That tickles. And that's probably true. Mycroft is the more dangerous of the two but it never bloody feels like it.”

He's spoiled and has a temper, what could he possibly understand about gratitude? JM

Very true, have you managed to resist getting the belt out yet? –AM 

Pretty sure we've had this conversation before. It's getting tedious. I don't like you sticking your nose into our sex life. Although you probably can't help yourself, perv. JM 

"Mycroft isn't dangerous until suddenly he's bloody deadly." Sebastian grumbled, ignoring Jim's complains and stroking against his stomach. "Trust me, if Mycroft wants us gone, we'll be gone." 

Jim snorted and reached down to tug at Sebastian's hair in retaliation. "Well that's comforting."

I wasn't talking about sex, I was talking about breaking him in. And while you were mincing around drugging half-price guards I was taking back the evidence I gave to Ashworth. Would you like it? Or do you trust it to me for safe keeping... -AM

What evidence do you think you have? JM

You aren't the only one who films my rooms you filthy little whore. There's official government security footage of that night. That I now have. In the spirit of our continuing partnership I thought you might like to come and collect it. -AM

"Fuck," Jim whispered in irritation. He dug his nails into Sebastian's scalp accidentally.

Sebastian yelped, swatting Jim's leg, "What was that for? Mycroft being a tit?" He shook his head, "That little geek got high powered friends too quickly."

"What? No." Jim said distractedly, rubbing his hand through Sebastian's hair in apology. "I told you I was texting your father. Also, you've realized that you're actually jealous of Mycroft, haven't you?"

Why are you giving it to me? What are you asking for? You realize that since apparently half the government has already seen it there's limited value. JM

There's limited value to me, I just thought you might want to have all your copies in one place. After all, if someone else were to steal or leak it your hold over me would vanish. -AM

Sebastian's money would dry up -AM

And I'd send social services around to pick up my son –AM

And I'm sure you've got an active enough imagination to work out what would happen to him. -AM

I understand the value of the tape. I want to know what you think its worth. I'm assuming you aren't giving it to me out of charity. There's something you want more than the money and Sebastian. I want to know what that is. JM

I'm not about to tell you over the phone. Come around and collect it. -AM

I'm not agreeing to anything until I know what it is you want from me. Besides, how am I supposed to bring whatever it is you want unless I know before hand? JM

Use some imagination you silly boy, why would I want an object from you. You have no money, you have no possessions. I have a ... problem. I'd like you to fix. -AM

I'm not agreeing to anything up front, obviously. I'll be there in twenty minutes. JM

Obviously. I'll see you then. -AM

Jim sighed and pressed his forehead against Sebastian's shoulder. "I've got to go. I'll be back later."

Sebastian frowned at him, trying to keep the winge out of his voice. "Where are you going? Not got something else to blow up have you?" 

“Don’t know yet.” Jim frowned, debating whether he should tell Sebastian or not. It was pretty obvious surprises after the fact would cause an argument. Although he would probably argue now anyway. “I’m going to your father’s house, he has another video from—the night I was over there. I need to get going soon or I’m going to be late.” 

"Wait, wait, what?" Sebastian practically yelped, "Like fuck you're going there alone." Reaching over he grabbed at his crutches, swearing at he knocked the beer over. "Fuck..." Once again, here was a great opportunity to be useless. "Fine. Go. Give the bastard hell." 

“I’d take you with me if I could,” Jim said honestly. He really didn’t want to be alone with Moran. Or in a room with him at all. Actually Sebastian had never seen Jim and his father in a room together, maybe this was best. Sebastian wouldn’t get any ideas that Jim was weak if he wasn’t there to see his hands shake. “This is important. I wouldn’t go if this couldn’t seriously come back to bite us in the ass. He has a job, I think. Like a client. He probably needs someone to do something illegal for him. It’s okay.” 

"Yeah, just be careful..." Sebastian said uncertainly, knowing that this evening was going to contain one angry wanking session and probably not much more. "Send me a text when you're done." 

"Of course. You know what to do if I've not texted you after a few hours, yeah?" Jim made sure Sebastian was maintaining eye contact with him before he continued. "Listen I know this isn't ideal but you being here and out of his reach helps me. I know I have someone who is looking out for me. Because if you weren't here honestly no one would even know where I'd gone." Jim smiled, his tone changing to teasing. "You can tell them where to find my body, yeah?" 

"Yeah, I know." Sebastian forced what he hoped was a reassuring smile, knowing it made sense for one of them to stay behind. "Try and stay alive at least, I'm not creating all this fuss for you to turn up as a corpse. And remember he's a cunt." 

“Like he’ll ever let me forget,” Jim muttered, only half kidding. He double checked for his phone and headed out the door. 

Sebastian switched on the TV, but found it impossible to concentrate, putting his phone on the arm of the chair next to him and staring at it. 

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Augustus Moran was waiting at the room, opening it as Jim arrived and nodding curtly at him, walking into the lounge without even checking Jim was following, "Drink?" 

“I’m underage,” Jim reminded him just to be a dick. Jim took a seat without being invited and folded his hands in his lap. “So what is it that’s so important?” He refused to let Moran control the room this time. 

Moran poured himself a glass of whiskey, "So you are, it's easy to forget sometimes, the way you act. Just thought it was worth being civil." He turned to Jim with icy eyes, "I won't make that mistake again. I don't suppose you'll give me any hint as to how to get in touch with my son." 

Jim smirked and tilted his head, “Is that your condition for giving me the tape?” 

"Would you tell me if that was part of it?" Augustus raised an eyebrow. "I know you think you're being terribly clever with all your little games, but he is my son and I do have an interest in him." 

“I’ve seen what your interest has done to him, I can’t say it’s a very healthy interest. Certainly not good for him. You can ask about him though, of course. I’ll probably be honest with you.” Jim shrugged, “I’m not terribly clever- anyone with a recording device could have done what I did.”

"Any whore with a recording device." Augustus gently corrected him, coming over and sitting next to Jim, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "I'm not sure there's many young men who would be as eager to get a hard cock inside them, even for the amount of money I'm paying you." 

Jim worked to keep his breathing even and through his nose. “Not /your/ cock certainly. I haven’t touched that money, Sebastian’s the only one that has access to it.” Jim didn’t know why it bothered him that everyone seemed to think he’d done this for money. 

"Sebastian has access to the money, and /you/ have access to Sebastian..." Augustus murmured, smirking as he noticed how their proximity was affecting Jim and patting his leg affectionately. "Quite /intimate/ access I've been told. That's the first thing I'll beat out of him."

Jim snorted and tugged at his ratty jumper, “Right because if I was getting him to buy me shit then I’d still be wearing stuff from the thrift store.” The hand clenched convulsively around his sweater when he felt Moran’s hand on his thigh. “Sorry, but you can’t actually beat the gay out of someone. Believe me, people have tried.” 

"I know, but it'll be a lot of fun trying." Augustus sighed, standing up and walking back towards the drinks cabinet. "Fun though it is to tease you, you're becoming far too annoying, and I'm sure your particular /skills/ could be more useful to other people. I'm sure I'll find Sebastian eventually." He nodded at the door and three men entered, closing the door behind them and swiftly walking over to the sofa. "He's yours. Do try his arse, it's well worth it."

Jim laughed loudly in the confines of the small room and he couldn’t stop. “You- you stupid /stupid/ fuck! You still don’t know, do you?” Jim’s whole body was shaking from adrenaline. 

"Don't I know? Then enlighten me." Augustus sounded irritated. Two of the men grabbed Jim from either side while the third stood looking confused, clearly he'd been waiting for some sort of retaliation that was not forthcoming. "You might as well, given you're likely to spend the rest of your life sucking cock in Eastern Europe." 

"I'm HIV positive you stupid piece of shit." Jim smiled viciously, determined to enjoy every moment of this. "Have been for years. You didn't use a condom. You ripped me open and I bled all over you. I told you Moran, that you'd be paying for what you did for a long long time. The rest of your life." 

One of the men, who clearly understood English, let go of him immediately at the words, and glared at Moran, who stared at him, expression flickering slightly before he snapped, "Don't lie - did you really think I wouldn't get tested, after fucking a little slut like you? He's lying..." 

Jim laughed again, "I'm completely serious. It can take up to three months after you are infected to develop antibodies. You won't know for sure until then. But I bet you were infected. I bled all over you." 

"You're fucking lying..." But Augustus was practically shaking now, surging forward he grabbed the front of Jim's shirt and slammed him against the wall, "Tell me you're fucking lying..." The three men stood, two looking baffled, one angry as Augustus slapped Jim hard around the face and then slammed him against the wall again, "And maybe consider that if I can't sell you as a whore I've no reason to keep you alive at all..." 

Jim just cackled like a mad man as the back of his head smashed against the wall and he choked in Moran’s grip. “I’m telling the truth. I’ve had it for years.” He wheezed. “Fucking kill me I’m going to die anyway. I’ll kill myself before I go with them. I’ll bite my tongue and bleed and bleed and bleed all over your hands and your rug and your couch.” Jim choked around another laugh, “It’s okay Moran, everyone dies. You’ll be dying too. You’re wealthy, you can get better drugs than the shit I get but it won’t help you in the end.” Jim bit the inside of his mouth and spat blood right into Moran's face as he howled with laughter. 

Moran gave a growl of anger as the one man whispered to the others and they all started to look confused. Smashing Jim's head against the wall again Moran waved at them, "Go, fuck off! I'll pay you later..." groping around in Jim's clothes he grabbed at the boy's phone, backhanding him again, "Phone him ... go on ... phone Sebastian. Tell my son what you've infected me with - infected us both with. Go on, tell him." 

Jim coughed as he choked on his own blood and the room spun. Too many knocks to the head god fucking /damn it/ he needed to focus! There was something important… “I didn’t. Infect him. He’s not a stupid fuck like you. He knows to use a condom.” Jim smiled through bloody teeth, “I lied to you, you know. We haven’t even really fucked. You’re sons still got his virtue intact. You believed me~” Jim was rambling now but his head was spinning and he didn’t care. 

"Phone him...." Augustus hissed, throwing Jim to the floor and tossing the phone after him, "Phone him or I will. Tell him you're a dirty infected little slut, see if he still wants you..." he wasn't sure whether Sebastian being still a virgin was better or worse, right now it was his own condition that was terrifying him. "I certainly don't damn want him, nor am I paying him a penny more. If I'm dying, why the fuck should my bloody career matter..." He hesitated and then managed a smirk, even through terror, "Does Mycroft know, I wonder? What sort of diseased little fuckwit is molesting his brother?" 

Jim wheezed and grabbed for the phone but just held it. He glared up defiantly at Moran, still laughing. “Probably. If anybody knows, it’s Mycroft. Apparently the bastard knows everything.” Jim wasn’t worried about Moran threatening to cut off Sebastian. Jim could still do everything he could to get Moran thrown in jail. Jim didn’t want to call Sebastian. He knew that he should. Knew that Sebastian was probably his only chance for possibly getting out of this situation alive but fuck it all, he didn’t want to have this conversation. Not like this. Not in front of Moran. 

Augustus glared at him, then snatched the phone back, backhanding him again when he tried to resist. There was no trace of calm about him now as he went through the numbers, found Sebastian's and rung it. The phone was answered almost immediately and Augustus managed coldly, "So ... I hear you're still a virgin, hmm?" The squawk of surprise from Seb was audible at the other end of the phone, followed by a stuttering line of threats and swearwords as Augustus glared coldly down at Jim. 

Jim lost track of the number of times he’d been hit and for a moment he just lay there, blinking dumbly at the ceiling. “Better to be a virgin than a rapist. You’re a piece of shit and you deserve this, a whole lot more than I do. You can’t even be mad at me for infecting you, you were the one who didn’t use protection. You opened me up to the same fucking risks, you’re just pissed because it backfired. And now you’re the one with a whore’s disease.” Jim cackled on the floor, enjoying this despite everything. Moran’s loss of control. Even if it was going to get him killed. 

"Yes, he's fine, he's here, he's ..." Augustus looked down at Jim on the floor, "Mostly uninjured. Sebastian, you've done a lot of stupid thing - shut up. SHUT UP." There was a sudden silence from the other end of the line and Augustus continued, "You've done a lot of bloody stupid things in your life, but leaving home to live as a sex-toy for a diseased little whore is probably the worst. Oh yes, he's ill, didn't he tell you? What fucking disease do you think? And I've got it too now, because the little /shit/ has a thing for fucking rich men. Oh don't start with all your /he's special, he's going to do great things/, just name me one thing, one thing you /know/ he's done other than flirt or have sex. Not something he's told you about, but something you've seen him do. Go on." The other end of the phone was still silent. "Don't bother trying to get in touch with me again, I won't be here. Your little friend saw to that. And you can forget about money or Sandhurst as well, I'm going to need it for Doctor's fees." Augustus threw the phone at Jim, still connected, and stalked out the room.

Jim picked up the phone with shaking hands, trying to get his breathing under control. This was too important. But fuck all he hurt. He’d taken one blow to the face from Moran before and this time he’d got him about five. Everything just ached but Jim was pretty sure his face was a total mess. Bloody former boxing champion… “Seb? Sebastian? I need you to call Mycroft. Do you understand?” His voice was low and rough, and his breath caught in his throat. 

"Are you alright, god what did he do to you..." Sebastian sounded panicked and confused. "Did - did he hurt you, did he infect you with something, y-you should've let me come with you..." upstairs in the house a door slammed shut, and Moran swore hard. 

“Why can’t you just do what I tell you!?” His voice was high and strained, all of his nerves had him stretched taunt as a bow string. Jim startled and almost dropped the phone when he heard a loud bang and Moran shouting something. He didn’t know if those men were still in the house and planning to take him out of the country. “I’m okay, I’m fine. Do what I tell you, please.” Everything else went unanswered and he thought ahead, wondering if he should try and make a break for it. Jim sniffled and his hand came away red, looked like Moran got him in the nose pretty bad. 

"Right." The phone clicked off as Sebastian hung up. 

Moran stormed back down the stairs, carrying a holdall and briefcase and glared at Jim as he passed. "Fuck are you still doing here you little bitch..." Dropping the bags he strode forwards, picking Jim up and giving him a shake, half-dragging and half carrying him towards the door. "I should get it fucking tattooed on your arse, so you don't go round infecting anyone else." 

Jim gripped his phone tightly and didn’t let go even when he was shaken violently, /gods/ that didn’t feel good with his concussion. Jim felt nausea rise until finally he got sick all over Moran’s fancy Italian shoes. He laughed at the sight and hoped that he’d remember it forever. “Maybe one day I’ll track you down and tattoo ‘rapist’ on your forehead.” Jim tapped the area he indicated and smirked from the floor. 

Moran gave an outraged little yelp as Jim threw up all over his shoes, opening the door and practically slinging him out. "You little fucker. You don't give in, do you? Good luck with trying to stick with Sebastian now, although there's no point in him coming snivelling back to me." Stalking into the house to get some new shoes he slammed the door behind him. 

A few minutes later and a sleek black car drew up and a large man got out, wrinkling his nose at the little heap of Jim in the bushes. "Moriarty?" 

Jim smiled, blood still sticking between his teeth. He was sure he looked ghastly, all bruised up and bleeding. “He’s in there, trying to leave the country I suspect. If you want to let him go and just take me home, that’s fine. But I don’t recommend you do. He’s in a bit of a desperate situation and might be more likely to wag his tongue. How many of your little secrets does he know? And how many are you comfortable with being sold to the highest bidder?” 

"Get in the back of the car. On the tarpaulin." The man said abruptly, smacking sharply at the locked door a few times with the side of his hand before pushing it open. There was silence from inside the house, the sound of running feet, a few shouts, and then the man came out again, talking quietly and urgently into a very small cell-phone. 

Jim sat down like he was told. He wouldn’t apologize for bleeding, it’s not like it was his decision. Actually he was glad that he wouldn’t have to explain anything to Mycroft. Jim sent off a short text to Sebastian telling him Mycroft was here and Jim was in the car. He wasn’t sure if Sebastian would actually give a fuck or not but it was the polite thing to do. Jim closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the seat, trying to force his stuttering brain to work. He needed to insure protection for Sebastian. Jim’s body still shook like a leaf and that frustrated him but it wasn’t a surprise. He’d been sure that he was going to be murdered or trafficked across the border. 

The man got back into the front of the car and without a word drove Jim back to the house he was sharing with Sebastian, getting out and holding open the door, neither looking at Jim or talking to him. The door opened almost immediately, Sebastian limping out, his eyes widening as he saw Jim and giving a "fuck..." the man stopped him before he could run forward, and said formally, "Mr. Holmes feels you will be better off here than in your home. Mr. Moran, I suggest you keep away from the blood. Neither of you are to attempt to contact Mr. Moran Senior again." With that he got back into the car and drove off while Sebastian, ignoring everything he'd been told, hurried forward to help Jim stand, muttering "I'll kill the bastard I fucking swear it." 

“Don’t touch me,” Jim hissed as he stumbled back from Sebastian. He wouldn’t have asked to be dropped off here. Not because he’d rather be at home but then at least he could fall apart in private. “Didn’t you hear what he said? It’s best if you just—just leave it, okay? I’ll take care of it.” 

"I've got the medical stuff in the lounge." Sebastian grabbed his crutches and limped back to the door, looking back anxiously at Jim. "Do - do you want a crutch? We could have one each. Oh fuck..." He started to laugh, slightly uncontrollably. "What the hell do we look like, huh? The genius and his bodyguard. Get inside, do you want tea or something?"

Jim snorted reluctantly, bringing a hand up to block the bright light of a street lamp. “Probably look like a couple of idiots. Water, thank you.” Jim made his way inside and grabbed the things from the lounge before heading to the bathroom. It would be easier to sterilize later. He stripped off the clothes he had bled on and bagged them before settling down in the empty bath tub in just his briefs. Overall he wasn’t all that injured but he wasn’t willing to risk standing around when he had a concussion and felt dead on his feet. 

Sebastian grabbed the water, heading into the bathroom and setting it on the closed toilet lid, looking down sadly at Jim in the bath, "You really have an illness?" He wasn't sure whether Jim had been joking, whether his father had been bluffing, and part of him was crushed, thinking of all the things he could never do. Hug Jim close when he was bleeding, clean him up in the bath, feel Jim cum inside him. Clenching his back teeth together he forced a smile, "Can never tell when the old man's telling the truth." 

Jim lowered his eyes and fiddled with the kit, pulling out disinfectant. That fucking ring Moran wore on his hand was going to be melted down for /scrap/ one day, Jim swore it. He struggled with what to say to Sebastian, he’d never really—had to have this conversation before. Anyone he shagged he always used a condom but Sebastian and he were—together, or something. He deserved to know. “I was going to tell you, I swear. Before we had sex. I wasn’t going to lie to you about it.” Jim couldn’t stand to raise his voice higher than a murmur. It was because of his headache of course. 

Having never had a lover before, no idea what made up a normal relationship, and only the haziest idea of what HIV consisted of Sebastian just shrugged. It wasn't not being told that was worrying him, it was the constraints it would place on what seemed to be an already shaky relationship. He couldn't patch Jim up when he was hurt, couldn't catch him if he was stabbed or shot, couldn't bite his lips and kiss the blood away. Scowling he looked at his feet, giving a shrug. "Yeah, doesn't matter. 'S long as I'm OK..." a schoolyard rumour made him lift his head, looking at Jim eyes wide, "Um ... you don't get it from kissing do you?" 

Jim snorted and handed Sebastian a pair of gloves, “Help patch me up yeah? Just make sure you wear protection. Don’t get my blood in your eyes or mouth or any open cuts, it’s pretty straight forward. Anything that gets my blood on it needs to be disinfected. Don’t ever use my razor, toothbrush… that kind of thing. If I’ve bled on something don’t touch it unless you have gloves.” Jim handed Sebastian the antiseptic. “I can’t clean up my face without a mirror; will you take care of this?”

Sebastian moved the water and sat down on the toilet lid, wishing he'd thought about gloves because now they seemed obvious. Tugging them on he grinned, stroking over the wounded parts of Jim's face and then dabbing the disinfectant onto cotton wool. "Right ... I'll remember. 'S long as I don't have to wear a full body condom to sleep with you..." he hesitated, trying to remember what he did know about HIV. "Won't you need ... drugs and shit? Expensive shit?" 

“Yeah, I take them.” Jim’s shakes were starting to calm as it sunk in that he was safe and with Sebastian. “I get them from dealers illegally. It’s expensive still but… not anywhere near as pricy as getting them through legal means. I’ve immigrated so… Social services would probably deport me. It’s easier to get them illegally. I know that this is all… overwhelming and confusing probably. It just seems normal to me now.” 

"Just worried about the money..." Sebastian managed, trying not to be too economically focused but right now it was a big worry. "Keep still." he dabbed the cotton wool against Jim's face, hissing as he noticed the indentation of the ring, the scrapes from the knuckles and the clear outline of a slap. He'd been on the receiving end many times, but it still hurt to see the damage to Jim. 

“Don’t worry, it’s my shit. I’ve taken care of it for a long time. You still have to- you know, be aware of it. To keep yourself safe.” Jim laughed a little, watching Sebastian hiss when it wasn’t even him being hurt. “At least he didn’t punch me. Fuck, I think I would have just blacked out.” Jim tried to joke.

"Yeah, I'll keep it in mind." Sebastian pushed a piece of stray hair away from Jim's forehead to allow him to clean up the bruises there. "You'll bloody lucky he didn't punch you, he's got a hell of a lot of muscle behind that fist..." he gave a little shudder, looking over Jim's body, "Fucking hell he must have been furious. And scared. If he hadn't been scared he probably would've almost killed you." He bit his lip, still holding Jim's face even though it was cleaned up. "What happened? What job did he ask you to do?" 

Jim looked down and fiddled with the first aid kit as the shaking started back up. “There wasn’t a job, he just wanted to get me in the house. It was stupid to go, I should have known better.” 

Sebastian noticed Jim's hands shaking and gently covered them with his own gloved hands, wishing the gloves weren't necessary. He was savvy enough to realise how Jim had caught the disease, and suddenly wanted to violently kill anyone who'd ever touched him. Sherlock included. "What did he do." And this time his voice was level and matter-of-fact, trying to prove to both himself and Jim that he didn't have to fly off the handle every time.

Jim shrugged and bit at his mouth. “He wanted to know where you were. He was planning to—get rid of me and thought that if I told him were you were then he wouldn’t have to go to the effort of looking.” It helped that Sebastian wasn’t freaking out about it. “He got mad when I wouldn’t tell him.” Jim didn’t give a fuck if Sebastian felt like he was pulling teeth trying to get the story, Jim himself wasn’t in a hurry to go over everything. So he tried little things like trying to bring the focus onto Sebastian. 

Sebastian gave a snort, it made perfect sense as a story, that Augustus had been trying to find out about Sebastian and beaten Jim up when he refused to tell. But for once his natural ego couldn't quite believe that this was all about him. "So what made you tell him, that you were ... ill. Why did it escalate so much. And why did I have to call Mycroft, of all people, just for a spat about Augustus's son..."

Jim laughed and tried for levity now that he was cornered. “He tried to sell me to human traffickers, can you believe that? Like something out of a Bond novel. He didn’t hit me until I told him that he’d been exposed. Traffickers weren’t so keen to take me after that either.” 

Sebastian's eyes dropped away from Jim's face. His hands picked up the cotton wool again, and started dabbing it along the grazes on Jim's back, where he'd hit the wall. "Three men? Built like brick shithouses? One of them knows English the other two do what he says?" 

Jim whirled around in shock, his eyes burning furiously. “Did he do that to you? Threaten you? I will rip his eyelids off his fucking face.” Jim took a breath a tried to control his temper. Moran was gone, Mycroft took care of it. There wasn’t anything he could do about it anyway. The mood swings were just a product of the concussion and stress but that didn’t mean his rage didn’t /feel/ real. 

Seeing the fire in Jim's eyes was a relief, to know that Augustus hadn't completely broken him, and Sebastian tugged out a gauze bandage, covering Jim's shoulder and trying to shrug it off. "They bought this Czech kid in. Teenager, hot skinny little fuck. Dad used him and threw him out the room and he ended up cuddling in with me. Course I slapped him around a bit, I, uh, wasn't gay back then, but we fell asleep together. Next morning dad was mad as fuck, threatened to send me back with him." He wrapped a bandage around the gauze to hold it in place, "It was a good few years ago." 

Jim bit at the inside of his mouth, trying to make himself speak. “My step father had a- friend? Partner? Who was part of a sex ring. This guy wasn’t a big player or anything, but he knew people. The group was involved in prostitution, pornography, sex trafficking… anyway, as I got older and rebellious my step dad would bring his friend in and scare the shit out of me,” Jim laughed, still biting at his mouth. “Like it sounds so fucking ridiculous. ‘Clean your room, wash behind your ears, or a man’s going to sneak into your room in the night while you’re sleeping and put a bag over your head and take you away.’ I couldn’t believe your dad did that. Worst bit was it was just an accident, he couldn’t have known.” Jim was running his mouth and he eventually was able to bite down on the ramblings. 

"He can't have known - he just knows people in all sorts of grubby buisinesses. If you'd been older he'd have shipped you for a drug mule, or off to a Russian gulag or something. This probably just seemed like a fitting way to get rid of some ... uh ... kid who fucked him for blackmail." Sebastian bit down on the word he'd been about to use, still stroking Jim's face and hair with the gloves. "He'd never have sent me off with them, he values his reputation too much and even back then I knew it. Felt sorry for the Czech kid though." 

Jim still flinched a bit when he heard Sebastian stumble over the words. A fitting way to get rid of a whore. He wondered if Sebastian felt the same way. “It’s still shitty, even if he never meant to go through with it.” Jim felt half frozen in the cold tub with practically nothing in the way of clothes. “I wasn’t going to let them take me. I was going to kill myself first, or push Moran to kill me.” There was no inflection in his voice, Jim was just stating facts as Sebastian ran the gloved fingers through his hair. “I thought he was going to. He was angry enough to. I still can’t believe he let me get on the phone with you, like he could have just offed me or left the country and been done with it. God knows where he is now.” 

"Don't think he's ever actually murdered anyone before, it's a bit of a stretch." He saw Jim shivering and sighed, tugging off his hoodie and sticking it on Jim, leaving his hands inside, "Oh bollocks, now you'll have to burn that one, won't you? He threatened all sorts of things, but this one I remember because the Czech kid was all sniveling and I wondered what would happen to him. Huh. Probably dead in a ditch with AID-" Far too late he realised that the sentence had got away with him and stopped abruptly, "Or maybe running a successful brothel. Who knows, who cares. He's out of our life now and we're fucking skint." 

“It’s alright you know. You can say it.” Jim looked up at Sebastian, watching him carefully. “I’m still in the latent phase. Means I haven’t got any symptoms yet, I’m not suffering or anything. Latent phase averages out to ten years. Some people have less time, some people have more. It just means it isn’t anything that you need to worry about, okay?” 

"Okay." Sebastian felt his throat tighten and scowled angrily to stop him doing something like crying. He didn't want to think about Jim only having ten years, it made him want to punch things. When he thought of Jim, he wanted to think of the two of them together for quite a lot of time, causing havoc and creating chaos. "He overestimated himself." He managed eventually, "Stupid fuck thought I'd leave you. He left the phone on so that you could hear it, hear me telling you a load of shit." The end of any fantasy about Sandhurst suddenly hit him and he muttered a 'fuck'. 

Jim stood, tired down to his bones and started tossing things in the tub. He’d clean it up tomorrow. “He didn’t overestimate himself, he underestimated you.” Jim wrapped his arm around his own waist, trying to keep warm. “You need to apply for emancipation as soon as possible. Mycroft might be willing to help with that, for a price, I’m sure. You don’t want your mother getting custody of you or swooping in and taking all of your assets now that your father’s out of the picture.” 

"Assets?" Sebastian laughed, "He'll have stripped those by now, I bet he was on the phone to his accountant when he left." He scowled at the thought of Mycroft, "Oh don't worry, that poncy bastard already owns my soul. You're to stay away from Sherlock, by the way, and away from politics. No legal trouble or he'll descend right away, get you deported and me thrown in prison. Those were the conditions." He gave Jim a helpless shrug and then smirked, "Mind you, he didn't say anything about illegal trouble." 

Jim laughed in surprise, “There goes my secret ambition to be an MI6 operative. Or a PM. Just think, one day I could have been /Mycroft’s/ boss. That does sound fair though, I’m sure he’ll be working overtime for /weeks/ trying to get this mess sorted out.” Jim reached out and grabbed Sebastian’s wrist, “We can still get you wherever you want to go. Don’t throw in the towel just because it’s a little more difficult now. There’s other ways, scholarship, threats, hell- I know she’s a bitch but maybe your mum would pay for you to go just to get you out of her hair.” 

Sebastian brightened as Jim mentioned the alternative source of income, "She's not a bitch." He pointed out reasonably, "Just piss poor at being a mother. She never really wanted to be one anyway. She'll cough up though, she's loaded and won't mind giving some away." Sandhurst, with its reputation, was probably out of the question, but they could keep the rented house for a bit longer. "Besides it's not where I want to go, it's where you need me to go." 

Jim thought that leaving your kid with an abusive spouse was pretty bitchy, but he let it go. “That’s good.” Jim took a breath, feeling humbled and frankly a bit terrified by the trust Sebastian was showing. “I don’t understand you,” he whispered. “I fucked up your life. I have a fatal disease. I don’t understand how you can want to stay with me after all that. How you could just shrug off your dreams like they don’t matter to you. How can you trust me?” 

'Because I have nowhere else to go and quite frankly haven't thought this through' didn't look like the answer Jim wanted to hear so Sebastian paused for a moment, frantically thinking, "Fuck, I dunno." was the best he could come up with, "Me and my dad, we had so many fucking arguments about the future, my future, I tried to drop out of school three times. Sandhurst was a compromise we both agreed on. But he still thought I was shite, and school thinks I'm a trouble-maker, and the police think I'm a delinquent and you're the only person who gets bloody interested when I do things I enjoy. Like smacking people's faces in. You make me want to prove I can do bloody anything when everyone else just makes me want to fuck off and get drunk. Maybe I can't trust you, but it'll be fucking fun finding out, yeah?" 

Jim smiled up at his friend, “You /are/ a delinquent, don’t get ahead of yourself.” He teased. Jim reached out and wrapped his arms around Sebastian’s chest. He was warm and steady, even with his heart going too fast. “We’ll make it. I’ll make sure of it. I hate to see wasted potential.” Jim didn’t care if he had to sell drugs or drop out of school or get a job, he’d get money and he’d figure it out. He felt warmed by Sebastian’s sentiments as misplaced as they might be. 

"Yeah but you love it." Sebastian grinned, wrapping his arms around Jim and hugging him close, "Yeah, course we'll make it. Once I've finished school I'll get a job or some shit, you finish and keep fleecing the kids from my school. Just not Sherlock, no matter how much that junkie pays, and no matter how pretty his eyes are, all right?" 

Jim nodded, thinking things through with his head feeling like it got split open was a pain. “I have a few options for money. We’ll see how it works out. I’m too tired to think right now.” Jim smirked, “You think his eyes are pretty, do you?” 

“No, I think he looks like a plant that's been grown in the dark. You're the one with the hots for him." Sebastian grumbled, levering himself out of the bath and then helping Jim up. "Worry about it tomorrow, we'll see what the fallout is and I'll phone my mum and cry at her that mean old daddy won't give me pocket money." He grinned, wishing he could carry Jim up to the bed but instead settling for hobbling after him on the crutches. "And then I'll get this bastard cast off and actually be useful." 

Jim snorted but made his way toward their bedroom. “You’re plenty useful, just think of the cluster fuck today would have been if we’d both gone to see your dad. You’d be half dead at the bottom of the stairs and I’d be half way to Czechoslovakia.”

"Oh yeah, I make a bloody great secretary for Mycroft Holmes." Sebastian grumbled, but in reality he was pretty pleased that the evening hadn't turned out any more disastrously wrong, given that it had started with Jim walking into a trap and ended with the medical kit - which needed replacing after all its use. The idea of Jim as a shivering little Czech rent-boy was strangely erotic and he tried to strangle that thought as fast as it rose. Not only would it be massively inappropriate to mention, given Jim's illness, it was also likely to be impossible. 

“I’d love to see you in a power suit.” Jim crawled into the bed and under the blankets. “I probably shouldn’t sleep.” 

"You can buy me one someday." Sebastian crawled into the bed next to him, making sure all injuries were covered by the hoodie in case Jim started bleeding again and throwing the duvet over both of them. "Sleep. I'll stay awake and make sure you don't spontaneously combust or anything." 

“Knocked my head against a wall about a half dozen times, I probably have a concussion. Just don’t let me sleep for too long, okay?” Jim had slept over at Sebastian’s before, but he’d never gotten used to the close contact of sharing a bed. He ignored his hesitancy and adjusted so he was curled around Sebastian’s side. For warmth, of course. He pressed his cold toes against Sebastian’s leg. 

Sebastian wrapped an arm around Jim, "Course not." He hissed a little bit as the frozen toes pressed against him but only moved to cover them with his good leg and tuck the duvet tighter around them. Lying back he kept his eyes open, trying to sort out the day’s events in his head. His father had been right; he was now left with nothing but Jim, but all that made him want to do was hang on to Jim even tighter. 

Jim was already dozing off; trying to stay conscious was like trying to hold onto water. “Thank you.” He burrowed deeper into Sebastian’s side, listening to his heart beat between his ribs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Life threatening illness


End file.
